Vengeance
by IHeartSam
Summary: Things take a turn for the worst when the events of BUABS catch up with the brothers as they ready themselves for the coming war and an old nemesis returns. Post AHBL. Spoilers for season 2.
1. Chapter 1

I still don't own Supernatural or any part of it.

**Vengeance**

_**Chapter 1**_

Sam heaved a large sigh; equal parts of frustration, exhaustion and fear coursing through him as he snapped the screen of his laptop shut. Why couldn't he find anything to help Dean? He had promised to save him and now, 3 weeks after the gates to Hell had been opened up, he still had nothing to go on to help him break his brother's deal with the crossroads demon.

Anger pushed his exhaustion and fear away at that thought. Dean had no right to make that deal! To sell his own soul! He groused out a humourless laugh, _And to think he used to call me a selfish bastard__…_

Sam scrubbed a large hand wearily over his tired eyes attempting to banish his anger, to control his feelings. Ever since they had arrived at Bobby's to regroup and prepare for the oncoming war he had been struggling to keep his emotions in check; he would snap at the slightest comment and Dean's arrogant bravado about his impending doom did nothing to alleviate Sam's constant anxiety, even Bobby seemed nonchalant about Dean's fate. Everyone was focussed on the war except Sam-all he could think of was the deal and how to break it. He had even given up pondering everything the Yellow-Eyed Demon had shown him although he still had nightmares about it, the implications of the demon blood…did it make him part demon? What if-

Soft footfalls outside the door to the kitchen dragged him back from his dark reverie. He knew it was Dean without looking up.

"I'm fine" he lied wearily before Dean could even ask.

"Dammit Sam you're not-" Dean began angrily before taking a deep calming breath. It seemed he too was edgy and highly strung. He continued more softly, "Sammy…talk to me man, you've been holed up in here for weeks now. This has to stop."

Sam closed his eyes against the pleading quality to Dean's voice, the desperation behind the simple words hurting him to the core. God he hated the estranged quality their relationship had taken on! He looked up and met his brother's concerned gaze as he seated himself at the opposite end of the small table, wanting to talk to Dean, _needing_ to talk to him, but unsure of how much he could say before Dean would clam up.

Dean took in his brother's hunched form as he sat down, wiping grubby hands on his jeans. He could see the inner conflict within Sam and patiently waited for him to open up. A small smirk flitted across Dean's tanned face, _I can__'__t believe I initiated a chick-flick moment_, he shuddered at himself.

"Dean, I'm just trying to fix this okay, I'm trying to put everything right. I'm alright, really." Sam said quietly. Dean shook his head as he clenched his jaw, unable to believe how tenacious Sam was.

"Leave it alone Sam. It was my choice." He replied tersely. His tone brooked no argument but, of course, Sam ploughed on anyway.

"Dean! Please, come on, you just have to tell me _exactly _what the demon said…maybe I can find a way to-"

"This isn't law school Sam. Leave-It-Alone." Dean growled and rose to exit the kitchen.

Sam's own anger flared in response, "No! Dean we're not done yet! When are you gonna talk about this? What gives you the right to decide my life is worth more than yours-" he yelled, rising and following his sibling outside.

Dean spun round to face Sam stating simply, "It is. End of."

Sam took a deep breath to control the anger roiling through him as Dean turned and began walking hastily to the junkyard to escape. Sam's angry voice was still following.

"No! It isn't and you don't get to decide if I fix thi-"

"Leave it alone! She'll just take you too Sammy!" Dean struggled to repress the tears brimming in his eyes, ever desperate to save Sam, the memory of his failure still too fresh. He whispered his next words, "Don't betray me."

His unusual display of emotion did little to stem Sam's growing anger, "Don't blackmail me! Dammit! Did you ever think about me in this! I don't want this!"

Dean flinched back from Sam's booming voice, his own still soft as he said, "I can't change that now Sammy and I'm sorry but I did it for you."

Sam jutted his jaw out obstinately, "I can!". Dean shrugged and turned away only to have Sam grab his upper arm and spin him round. "Don't you do this!" Dean shoved Sam hard and he stumbled back a few paces to watch his brother's broad back retreating into the junkyard.

"Fine! Walk away from this, just like all your other problems!" he yelled after him, long arms flapping in exasperation.

Dean turned and closed the distance between them in a few strides and Sam could see the flinty anger in his brother's hazel eyes, knowing he had pushed too far this time.

"Walk away?!" he said incredulously. Dean was quivering with suppressed rage as he pointed a finger to Sam's chest and said accusingly, "No, that's your job."

The instant he had said it Dean regretted his harsh words as he watched all the colour drain from Sam's face. He bit his lip in frustration, wondering how he had let himself lose control like that and, unable to look at Sam's stricken face any longer, he stormed off to work on one of Bobby's old pick-up's, cursing himself with every step. He felt even more of a tool when Sam called after him in a defeated, hurt voice, "You're right. But I won't walk away from this Dean. Not from you."

Sam felt a renewed determination surge through him as he voiced his promise to Dean even though he was guilty as hell about Dean's last statement. Now it was anger at himself that he struggled with as he trudged back over the threshold.

He didn't mean to seem ungrateful but Dean was so intent on saving him that he wouldn't realise-couldn't realise-that it was slowly killing Sam to know he had sacrificed his life. How could he expect Sam to say 'thanks' and be happy that he was gonna lose his brother! _Always with the double standards..._

Another surge of guilt flooded him and Sam paused by the front door to take a few breaths and compose himself. His emotions were threatening to overwhelm him and he didn't know how to stop it as he sank, sobbing, to his knees, holding at the door frame for support. He stiffened as a soft pressure on his shoulder announced Bobby's appearance.

"What is it son?" he asked gently, his craggy face pulled into a picture of compassion.

Sam took a shaky breath and looked up with a sad smile, "Everything" he whispered.

Bobby squeezed the youngest Winchester's shoulder, knowing no words could ease his pain. He hated seeing John's boys suffer like this, after all they'd been through…

"You boy's have a fight?" he asked, knowing full well that they had but knowing also that Sam would probably need to talk about it.

"Yeh," came the soft reply, "I didn't mean to get angry at him but…he won't talk to me Bobby, he won't understand that I _have_ to save him."

"He knows Sam, that's why he got angry too-doesn't want you do anything to save him that might endanger yourself." Bobby replied sagely. "He knows how you feel Sam, believe me! You should have seen him after you…after you…well let's just say he couldn't handle it, you not being with him. He needs you Sam. He'll come around. Just his way is all."

Sam sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, "I know. Thanks Bobby."

Bobby grumbled something indistinct in reply and helped Sam to his feet, clearly uncomfortable. He scratched his scruffy beard and shifted the ever-present hat over his head awkwardly, mumbling something about going to get a drink. Sam followed him inside quickly.

"Hey Bobby? You think I could borrow a truck?" There was glint in Sam's brown eyes that did not go unnoticed by the seasoned hunter.

"Yeh, why?" he asked warily, as he chucked over a set of keys.

Sam smiled, "You'll see".

"Alright. See you soon." He said, secretly not caring why Sam wanted to borrow a car after he had smiled properly for the first time in days.

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I_**ndiana State Prison, 2 weeks ago**_

"Walker, you got a visitor. Let's move."

Gordon Walker looked up from his card game as the portly officer grabbed his upper arm and began shoving him down a hallway. He scowled and shrugged the officer's grip off to swagger ahead to the visitor's room where he scanned the booths for a familiar face. He raised an eyebrow when the officer's droll voice spoke from behind him and pointed him in the right direction.

"Number 7...a Miss Wandell to see you."

_Wandell…Steve's daughter?!_ Gordon's eyebrows shot higher as he seated himself before the reinforced window and picked up the receiver, eyeing the youth before him. She had her father's eyes-dark blue eyes- and chestnut hair to her shoulders.

"Gordon Walker?" she asked tentatively.

"That's me." He affirmed cautiously, still taking her in. Why was she here?

"You knew my father, Steve Wandell, didn't you?"

"I did…" Gordon replied slowly, dread settling in the pit of his stomach, something must have happened to him if she was here, " Did he send you?"

The girl shook her head and dropped her eyes to the floor. When she looked up next they were teary but her voice was cold and angry. "He was murdered a few months ago." She waited for the news to sink in before continuing, "I've been trying to track down anything on who my have done it b-"

"Who?" Gordon interrupted, dark eyes widening as thoughts tumbled through his brain, one echoing louder than the rest…_Winchester!_

"Yeh, his security tape was missing and I figured a demon wouldn't care much if it got caught so I did some tracking down and asked around at the Roadhouse and heard that it might be down to some guy called Sam Winchester-he's a-"

"Psychic working for the other side. I know him." Gordon said darkly. He became lost in angry thoughts about the savage traitor and pounded his fist on the table top. Portly looked over and Gordon calmed himself.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Wandell's face was grim and set as she met his gaze, her own eyes holding a darkness of their own as she growled out, "I want your help."

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Hope you all like it so far-please let me know what you think. I will try to post an update soon. Thanks for reading xx


	2. Chapter 2

Unfortunately the same disclaimers apply-I don't own Supernatural.

Thanks to those of you who took the time to review my story-your enthusiasm has inspired me to write faster so there will definately be an update tomorrow!

**_Chapter 2_**

Dean looked up as he heard footsteps crunching towards him, fully expecting to see Sam standing before him. Instead Bobby's weathered face peered under the car hood.

"How's she comin' along?" The older hunter asked, nodding to the rusted engine Dean was trying to salvage.

"Dude! Personal space!" Dean shrank back, smiling. Bobby did not return the sentiment.

"Smartass" he mumbled, shaking his head. Dean's grin only broadened.

"Er, to be honest Bobby, I don't think this one's gonna be saved. Sorry."

Bobby seated himself on the rim of the hood and began awkwardly, "Dean…I need to talk to you about something- about Sam."

Dean's eyebrows drew together questioningly as he seated himself next to the old family friend, prompting him to continue.

"You know he's having nightmares right?" Dean nodded. The poor kid had been plagued by them for weeks again now and Dean knew his brother was hardly getting any sleep, he was perpetually tired and grumpy.

"He won't tell me about 'em if that's what you mean Bobby. I've tried to get him to talk to me about it but he just won't go there." Dean said, shaking his head.

"He's been through a lot lately-you both have- it's just that I'm worried about him. He sits up on that damn laptop almost all night, every night! What I'm trying to say is, maybe you should just talk to him about your deal and give him something to go on. He's as stubborn as you-if not more so-and he'll just keep on researching anyway. At least help him to help you."

Bobby observed Dean's face go through a range of emotions; anxiety, fear, defeat. He smiled and put a hand on Dean's shoulder.

"I don't want him to do anything stupid Bobby. I … Can't lose him again." Dean struggled to keep the lump out of his throat, thoroughly appreciating the fact that Bobby wasn't looking at him.

"I know son, but remember that he feels that way about you too. It's all he talks about."

"Really?" Dean said, an oddly warm feeling spreading though him. Bobby nodded.

"Just talk to him Dean-he still needs you. Now more than ever."

"Yeah. Yeah, where is he?" Dean said, looking around.

Bobby shrugged, "I dunno. He took a truck about a half hour ago. Should be back soon. Now we done here? 'cause I am all out of advice for one day!" Bobby said in exasperation.

Dean smiled, "We're done. Thanks."

"Yeah. Don't make a habit of it though…I'm nobody's agony aunt."

"I should hope not! Something you're not telling me _Booby_?" Dean gave an exaggerated, leering wink and laughed at the scowl on Bobby's face as he sloped off, a lame, muttered reply floating back to him,

"Smartass."

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Sam milled about in the grocery store debating what to take back to Bobby's for lunch. Dean would obviously want something unhealthy so he grabbed a few bags of chips, some pizza, peanut M&M's and a couple of beers too, deciding they all needed a night off to relax although if he was truthful it was more of a peace offering as he knew he would undoubtedly return to his laptop once the others had gone to bed, unable to find any peace in sleep however much he desired it.

As Sam made his way to the counter a feeling of unease crept up his spine, a dread chill settling over him. He turned round, dark eyes scanning the aisles for anything suspicious.

Nothing.

He shrugged his shoulders, putting his previous unease down to fatigue, and paid for his goods before heading to the door.

"What the hell?!" he exclaimed loudly. The elderly lady at the counter looked over in alarm.

For a moment he thought had seen…_No, I'm just tired. It can't be him…_He turned back to the door, this time not seeing any faces in the glass save his own pale reflection. Sam shook his head to clear it, _I must be losing it. _

Still not entirely convinced by his own excuses Sam hastily returned to the pick-up and started up the engine, eyes still alert and watching. He jumped as he caught sight of someone turning a corner from his rear-view mirror, releasing his breath with a sigh of relief when he realised it was only a pretty red-head who was on her cell phone.

Smiling at his own stupidity Sam pulled out of the lot, presently unaware of the figure exiting the small store to shadow him.

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"I see him. He's driving away." Wandell said down her cell phone, answering Gordon's question, as she had done the past few weeks with all his others. She had explained about how she had found out about Sam and had given Gordon proof that Sam had killed her father. He had been especially impressed when she had relayed how she had salvaged the hard drive from her father's computer and subsequently shown the recovered security footage. She was only glad her computing-electronics studies had come in useful.

Gordon turned the corner and she shut off her cell.

"Did he see you?" she asked. Gordon glowered at her. How dare she question him-he was hunter!

Ignoring the question he pulled a pistol from his waistband and handed it to her, "Just in case." And with that he jumped into his own truck and shadowed the youngest Winchester from a distance, going over the plan again in his head.

He smiled grimly, Sam wasn't going to get away from him this time. He would pay. He would pay for it all! Gordon felt his anger flair as he remembered the numerous conversations he and Wandell had had the past few weeks, all the pieces falling into place easily and all of it pointing to the Winchester boy. He must have ordered the destruction of the Roadhouse-knowing it would eliminate many hunters, leaving him and his filthy demon army less opposition-just like he had eliminated Steve.

Gordon narrowed his eyes and he pushed hard on the accelerator, eager to finally get his revenge.

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Hope you're all enjoying the story so far. Any comments are more than welcome! x


	3. Chapter 3

Okay so there are small spoilers from Hunted in this chapter and it's kinda short so I'm uploading the next one too :) Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far as it's really keeping me going! x

_**Chapter 3**_

Sam glanced into his rear-view mirror, once again noting the black truck that had been tailing him for the past few minutes. A tingle shivered down his neck and more doubts flew into his mind-_What if I __**did**__ see Gordon at the store? What if he's escaped from prison and come for us again? _

Old memories flooded back to him.

'_You're no different than the filthy things you hunt…go on Sammy, show your brother the killer you really are' _

Sam could still see Gordon's black eyes glittering with malicious hatred as he spat his taunting accusations, could almost feel the punches smacking into him again. He bit into his lip anxiously, checking the mirror.

The black truck was closing in on his own. Closing in too fast. He floored the gas pedal, now sure of what he had seen earlier. He heard the engine rev loudly behind him as he fished his cell phone out from his jacket pocket.

"Hey Sammy, where are you?" Dean's gravely voice answered.

"Dean! I'm being followed, I think it's Gordon!" Sam said hurriedly, eyes still trained on the approaching vehicle.

"What?! Are you sure? Where are you?" came Dean's response, the incredulity and concerned resolve evident in his tone.

"I'm…" Sam removed his eyes from the mirror for a moment to read a sign, "A couple of miles out-SHIT!"

Sam dropped his phone to grab the steering wheel firmly with two hands as Gordon's truck rammed into his. He could hear Dean screaming down the phone to him but the noise faded to insignificance as his brakes screeched a protest at the pressure he was applying to them.

He struggled to regain control of the pick-up as it was again rammed from behind but found he couldn't maintain a hold on the wheel. He braced himself against the inevitable, even as the truck tumbled down a small ditch and crashed to a halt.

The frantic yelling from the cell discarded on the floor went unanswered.

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Read on to find out if Sam's okay...go on, you want to ;)


	4. Chapter 4

Some IMTOD spoilers in this one. Enjoy x Oh yeh, usual disclaimers apply and the song is Bad Moon rising by CCR which I don't own either...pity :)

_**Chapter 4**_

Sam groaned as his consciousness returned to him, pain lancing through his pulsating head.

'_I see a bad moon rising…I see trouble on the way…'_

Sam scrunched his eyes shut and then forced them to open as the music wafted over him, wondering why he felt so awful, why a tiny part of him was screaming that something was horribly wrong. He forced himself to sit up realising he was in a car. _What the hell…?_

'_I see earthquakes and lightning…I see bad times today…'_

The world was spinning round him, a whirling vortex of colour and noise that waxed and waned with his darkening vision. His foggy brain finally cleared enough to remember he had crashed. _Shit! What had he done…?_

The door flew open.

"_Get back…or I'll kill you I swear to God!" _Sam's voice sounded weak to his own ears, his threat receiving a chuckle from the open door…he reached for the Colt but there was no reassurance to be had from its cold metal touch…where…?

'_Don't go around tonight…it's bound to take your life…there's a bad moon on the rise…'_

"_Dad? Dad." Sam whispered in a croak as he glanced to his right. His Dad was out cold. Concern for his severely injured sibling overrode worry for his father. "Dean?!" he almost yelled in desperation, needing to hear his brother speak, needing to know he was ok…alive…His brother's bloody face was pale in the darkness…_

"Dean?" he blinked open his heavy eyes, unaware that they had shut again. As the haze lifted from his confused gaze he realised it wasn't Dean, Dean was behind him, lying in a pool of blood…No, wait he was…he shook his head trying to clear the fuzziness...

"Try again." A coldly familiar voice brought Sam's lucidity back with shocking speed. _Gordon! _He fumbled for the glove box, seeking a hold on some form of weapon but his weighty limb was caught and effortlessly slammed down on the steering wheel. A tiny puff of air was released from the almost deflated bag before Sam. He was dimly aware that blood was on it…his blood, but he still struggled to escape.

"Tut-tut Sammy," Gordon crooned, jerking him back by his long hair, "You forgot the seatbelt."

Sluggishly Sam found his eyes glancing downwards. Damn! He vainly attempted to pop the button on the belt, knowing he couldn't give up now-he had to hold out until Dean arrived. If only he could give him enough time!

As if reading his thoughts Gordon slapped his face, "Dean's not gonna save you this time Sammy. You've got some things to answer for before he gets here."

Sam felt his eyelids flutter as he struggled to maintain consciousness suddenly aware that he really was hearing Bad Moon Rising on a radio and that it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him.

'_I hear the voice of rage and ruin…'_

_Man, I am really beginning to hate that song! _Sam thought, even as a sardonic voice in his head- that sounded amazingly like Dean-told him that it was ironically appropriate. He watched a car pull over beside them and for a fleeting, hopeful moment thought he would be okay.

Sam's eyebrows screwed together in recognition of the girl he had seen at the store earlier and he groaned as Gordon addressed her.

"Wandell! Open the door, I'll take care of him."

_God Dean hurry…_

Sam surreptitiously leaned over, his hand fumbling on the floor of the pick-up for his lost phone. His spinning head immediately pounded its protest. _Ok so __**that **__was a bad idea._

"O-ho, I don't think so Sammy," Gordon taunted, snatching the cell from his fingers. He backhanded Sam across the face sending him reeling backwards, a fresh flow of blood oozing from his nose. He couldn't stop his eyes from shutting.

'…_.hope you are quite prepared to die…'_

Sam felt the hand reach over him and unbuckle his seatbelt. He knew he should care, that he should try to fight back to give Dean time to rescue him again but he couldn't muster the strength. It hurt too much…he should be dead anyway…_No! _he'd made a promise to Dean, he had to save him…had to try to repay him for everything he had done.

He grunted as he squirmed in protest, something akin to a growl escaping his parted lips. He was a Winchester dammit! They didn't just lie down and accept anything! Sam's fist found purchase on Gordon's face, catching him by surprise, and he shoved hard.

Gordon stumbled back momentarily and Sam swung his long legs out of the truck, dropping to the ground unsteadily. He cursed himself for forgetting the truck was taller than he was used to. His momentary lapse in strength was all it took for Gordon to pounce on him, a thick arm encircling his neck.

"Gah!" Sam gasped for air, struggling to harness the adrenaline pulsing through him. He reared up and slammed Gordon into Bobby's pick-up but only managed a single, staggering step before the blackness that had been ghosting around the periphery of his vision blanketed his senses and sent him crashing to his knees.

_No! It can't end here…not after all this…_

"No more games Winchester!" Gordon growled from behind him and Sam groaned as his jacket was grabbed roughly. Black eyes bored into his own with frightening intensity and suddenly what little strength remaining in Sam evaporated, leaving him limp in Gordon's arms. The other hunter gave a dead smile and hummed aloud as he dragged the semi-aware Sam into the back of his vehicle, Wandell's own eager, hating face looking on in anticipation as she shut the door.

'_Don't go around tonight…well, it's bound to take your life…there's a bad moon on the rise.' _

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Ok so I hope Sam's lapsing in and out of consciousness and old memories worked out. Wasn't sure if it was gonna make sense but hopefully it did! Let me know what you thought. Thanks again for reading and all the kind reviews x


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed my story so far-I'll try to keep posting as quickly as I can.

**_Chapter 5_**

Dean allowed himself another chortle as Bobby made his way back to the house, thinking that the older hunter was losing his touch with comebacks. Coming to the conclusion that it must be because of Sam he answered his buzzing cell phone, caller id informing him that it was said brother, "Hey Sammy, where are you?"

"Dean! I'm being followed, I think it's Gordon!" Dean could hear his brother's panic down the phone and immediately took charge of the situation, trying not to pass along his own anxiety.

"What?! Are you sure? Where are you?" he asked, big-brother mode and hunter mode turning on simultaneously. Bobby stopped at his porch, hearing the alarm in Dean's tone.

"Dean wha-" Dean waved a hand to silence him as Sam's voice escaped the receiver once again. His few words iced Dean's heart as it plummeted to his stomach.

"I'm…a couple of miles out-SHIT!"

"Sam? SAMMY?!" Dean yelled, his deep voice raising in volume as his alarm morphed into full-blown fear when Sam didn't reply. The ice spread.

Bobby was hurrying back over, little clouds of dust snaking upwards with each step. Dean didn't spare a glance as he continued to yell down the phone.

"Sam? Answer me! What's going on? SAM!"

His pleas were answered only with a deafening screech and a thundering smash. Suddenly his knees wouldn't support his weight. _NO!_ _Please no!_

"Sam?" This time his voice was a tiny whisper. He barely registered Bobby's hand on his arm as he repeated the call

Silence…No, wait, there was something…CCR? Dean's eyebrows met over the bridge of his nose in consternation.

Dean closed his eyes against any distractions and turned all his attention to the muffled noises meeting his ear. His heart leapt as he heard Sam's distinctive voice. He didn't care how fragile it sounded, or that he couldn't make out the words, it was there and he'd never-_almost_ never- been so happy to hear it.

_I'm coming Sammy! _

Dean rose to his feet and swept off towards the Impala, phone still clutched pointlessly to his ear. He gunned the engine and Bobby was suddenly sitting shotgun.

"You mind telling' me what in the hell's goin' on?"

"That sonofabitch has got Sam!" Dean growled, Bobby raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Gordon. I'm gonna kill him!" Dean yelled, pounding a fist on the steering wheel. Bobby's eyes flashed his shock and approval- he was kind of protective of John's boys.

"Where is he?" Bobby asked, nodding to the phone. Dean removed it from his ear, shrugged, then threw it aside. He couldn't make anything out anymore anyway.

"I dunno…he said ha was a couple of miles out and then…he crashed." Dean lower lip pouted in an effort to keep control. He had to hold it together for Sam's sake. He vaguely noticed a horrified expression cross Bobby's weathered face. Hadn't Sam been though enough?!

An ambulance and a police car screamed past them at the top of the drive and the hunters exchanged looks as realisation hit at the same instant.

"Sam." They intoned. A second police car sped past and the Impala rumbled in its wake only moments later.

Dean allowed the slightest relief to wash over him as he thundered after the cars; he had a place to start looking for clues to Sam's whereabouts, he'd have him back soon. But as the smoking wreck of Bobby's truck came into view he found it hard to hold onto that relief and a cold rage surged inside him. _I'm gonna kill that bastard. He won't get away with this. _

He pulled over at the side of the road, a fake id already in his hand, and tried to be as removed as possible as he walked over to the county sheriff. His eyes suddenly fell on the smashed pick-up and he trembled at the sense of deja-vu that swept threw him. They'd been here once before and look how it had ended.

Bobby's raspy voice shattered his mindless concentration on the vehicle, "… too familiar…" He echoed Dean's sentiments and put a steadying hand on his shoulder saying, "Let me handle this."

Before Dean could get his stunned body to move Bobby was speaking to the sheriff.

"Your guys get anyone out of there." He nodded to his own pick-up.

"Nope, we just got here. Who the hell are you?" The cop replied, suddenly noticing he wasn't talking to one of his officers.

"John Davies, FBI. I've been tracking the kid who stole that pick-up for a while now. He's wanted for questioning. I'll take it from here." Bobby said smoothly, a current alias being produced from his wallet and waggled before the sheriff.

Dean would have been impressed with Bobby's story but for the fact he still couldn't remove his eyes from what remained of the pick-up. He stood lost in memories that were still too recent, too raw…too real.

"God I'm so sorry Sammy." _I failed you…again. But I __**won't**__ lose you this time! Not again. Not __**ever**__ again!_

He clenched his jaw, swallowing hard. He wouldn't allow his emotions to get the better of him. He had a job to do.

Suddenly John's voice was in his head, '…_You Do. Your. Job…Protect Sammy_…'

Dean took a deep breath and tuned in to what Bobby was saying.

"…working undercover…doesn't know he's being surveyed…"

He sauntered past them to inspect tracks on the ground, hazel eyes narrowing in concentration.

Bobby finished their cover story and casually strolled over to Dean.

"What you got?" he said, noticing the determined glint to Dean's gaze.

He stood up, nodding to indicate the treads he had been staring at. They headed west.

Bobby looked over his shoulder to check no-one was in earshot and whispered reluctantly, "I hate to say this Dean but, if we're gonna find Sam quickly, we need a little more to go on than that. Let's go back to my place and-"

"What?!" Dean hissed heatedly, "Sam's out there being attacked by Gordon and you wanna go-"

"Hear me out," Bobby said reasonably, leading him back to the Impala.

Several minutes later they were in Bobby's kitchen and Dean was grabbing extra weapons and supplies while Bobby went to make a call.

A bittersweet smile tugged at the edge of Dean' lips as he saw the pile of scrawled notes Sam had left strewn across the table beside his laptop. He picked up a sheet to read it over, allowing a small puff of laughter to escape his nostrils. Sam's handwriting looked like their father's.

'_I love the guy but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda.'_

Bobby moved past him and Dean was able to catch his end of a conversation.

"Deacon. It's Bobby. I need a favour…Sam Winchester's been taken…Gordon Walker…we don't know…we need you to dig around, see if you can find anything to help us find where's he's keeping Sam…yeh, sure…Bye."

An agonising half-hour later Bobby's phone went. Dean fought the urge to grab the phone from him and talk to Deacon himself, hating that they'd had to wait around when Sam was in trouble. He needed him! NOW! _Ash would have had this done in about 5 minutes…_

"…What?! Wandell? you're sure? Jesus Christ! …Good…where? Got it. Thanks. I will."

"Talk to me Bobby." Dean yelled in frustration, ceasing his pacing to face Bobby expectantly.

"Gordon got out of prison a few weeks ago. Deacon spoke to some guys who saw Wandell's daughter asking around at the Roadhouse and apparently she went to see him-about Sam…"

"Shit!" Dean cursed as Bobby gave pause for him to process the information. _I should have been ready for this! What have I done?! Why didn't I just destroy the whole house…?_

"Anyways it's likely they're working together on this so he found a registration for her car. And guess what? It's got a GPS transmitter on it."

"Where?!" Dean breathed, eyes alight with anticipation. Sam had to be there!

Bobby handed him the post-it he'd been writing on and he turned to sprint to the Impala, dumping their bags unceremoniously in the back seat as Bobby joined him.

Dean's hazel eyes took on a dark intensity as he focussed on the dusty road ahead of him, a grim smile settling on his face.

It was time to kick some ass.

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More on the way soon:)


	6. Chapter 6

Hey-sorry about taking a bit longer to post this chapter-real life couldn't be ignored any longer! Anyhow here's the next chapter and it's nice and long.

Huge thanks to each of you that have reviewed this story so far (especially those of you who have reviewed each chapter almost religiously!) they really make me smile and the response to this fic has really surprised me so it's good to know you're all enjoying it so much. I'm having good fun writing it too:) But enough rambling! Enjoy X

_**Chapter 6**_

"Is he still out?" Gordon asked from the front seat, his eyes dangerous in the mirror, locked onto Sam's still reflection.

Wandell met his gaze from the back seat where she sat alongside an unconscious Sam. "Yup," She affirmed, continuing with slight dubiety as the young Winchester let out a small moan, "Maybe not for much longer though."

"There's rope in the bag-bind him tight. He'll try to escape again when he wakes up." Gordon replied confidently, eyes drawn back to the road as he took a turn down a secluded driveway limned by thorny shrubs.

The car trundled down the disused path, jolting every few moments over a pothole or stone, eliciting curses from Gordon and noises of discomfort from his backseat prisoner.

_Why the hell didn't we use her car for the crash? _Gordon shook his head, foot firm on the gas in his haste to get Sam inside before he woke up; his truck would have handled this sorry road with comparative ease.

A small, abandoned house came into view behind the dense shrubbery, dark in its loneliness and isolation. The windows were grimy with dirt and dust, the dilapidated garage literally creaking under its own weight.

Gordon pulled up, killed the engine and helped Wandell drag Sam inside the groaning building before binding him securely to a post in the middle of the room. A soft rain began pattering lightly on the old roof, droplets finding their way from the grey sky into the gloomy garage.

Wandell went back to her car and grabbed the bag of equipment Gordon had brought. Looking up to check he was busy she rooted around, checking what the hunter had thought to bring. He was well prepared…but not prepared enough…

"Hurry!" His voice shattered her musings and his head appeared. "What are you doing?" He said, almost suspiciously.

She shook her chestnut locks from her eyes, "Nothing…I just think maybe you should have brought more rope, if the Winchester's as strong as you say. " She motioned to the open bag.

"I've got better than that" Gordon quirked his dark eyebrows and gave her a meaningful look as he pulled out a set of handcuffs. She returned his pleased look and followed him back inside the relative shelter of the garage, closing some of the rain and wind out behind the door.

The cold cuffs were set around Sam's wrists, locking him to the pillar in the room's centre. Their touch seemed to rouse him as he shifted slightly as if straining against his bonds. Gordon sneered at the pathetic being before him, a cold anger once again gripping him as he thought of what this monster had done, who he had killed. _No, _he corrected himself, _who __**It **__has killed._

He looked over to Wandell, nodding to the unasked question in her blue eyes, the anticipation there mirroring his own as she came forward with a bucket of water that she doused over the young Winchester.

Sam's unfocussed brown eyes flew open as the icy water cascaded over him, his breath catching in his throat with shock. His head knocked into something behind him and a low, growling laugh met his ringing ears. _What the hell? Where am I?_

He forced the room to stop spinning and saw two figures standing before him, their familiar faces forcing his gut to clench in dread.

Gordon watched Sam with a sick smiled spreading over his twisted features. Wandell stood beside him, her lips a grim line of disgust. She too, however, smiled as Sam tensed. The kid's face was so open that she could pinpoint the exact moment he realised what was going on.

"You!" Sam whispered. Gordon cocked his head.

"You seem surprised to see me." His arrogance made Sam's skin crawl.

"You bastard!" he hissed. Gordon pouted in mock offence and suddenly Sam's head was driven back into something solid, his cheek aflame even as cool water trickled over it.

"Keep your filthy mouth shut demon!" Gordon spat.

_He thinks I'm a demon?! _Sam was incredulous, trying to fathom the depths of Gordon's twisted mind and whispered disbelievingly, "You think I'm a-"

He was cut off mid-speech by a second punch to the jaw. He tried to ignore the ache it created as Gordon said in a barely contained voice, "I said keep your Filthy. Mouth. Shut. Demon!" Then turning to the young woman with chestnut-red hair he ordered, "Show him."

Sam's brows drew together, the confusion in his large eyes evident. What the hell was going on? He needed to get loose and escape and…where was Dean? _He'll be here…hold on. Give him time._

A screeching rumble drew his attention from the far end of the dim room he was in. His confusion deepened as his eyes fell on a projector screen and he heard Gordon breath out excitedly as the red-head set about working on something he couldn't see.

Sam allowed his gaze to wander over to the vampire hunter-_ex-vampire hunter_-he corrected dryly, thinking that he was Gordon's main prey these days. How had he got out of prison…?

"What is it Sammy? Trying to kill me with a look?" Gordon said lightly.

"You're not allowed to call me that." Sam said, eyes narrowing. _Only Dean gets to call me that…_

"I was only trying to be nice, _Sammy, _you can tell me what's bothering you. What's the matter-scared that Dean hasn't come to rescue you yet?"

"Actually I was just admiring your new look. Not at all conspicuous." Sam said sarcastically as he nodded to Gordon's completely black attire and heavy beard. He smiled to himself-Dean would have liked that one.

The smile was short lived as a pain erupted on his left side and it was in a daze Sam looked down to see blood blossoming over his side, the gunshot still echoing round his head.

"I thought I made it clear Winchester. Maybe now you'll learn to answer my question honestly or keep your mouth shut." Gordon whispered lowly.

Wandell stood beside the projector screen, looking back over her shoulder to see what was taking place behind her. Sam was unable to read her expression in the gloom so contended himself with glaring defiantly at Gordon, ignoring the stabbing bursts of pain that screamed through his chest with each breath as well as the warmth seeping from his side. Despite the pain Sam was aware that the wound wasn't deep-he'd felt the bullet hit off a rib though, had felt it ricochet off of it-and knew he wasn't going to bleed out. He just had to stay calm…stay calm and wait for Dean. The irony of his situation was not lost on him.

_I can't believe I'm waiting for Dean to save my ass again! I thought I was supposed to be saving him…_

A sudden brightness from the far end of the room attracted Sam's attention again and the pain that filled his gaze doubled as he set eyes on the screen: Steve Wandell was on the floor being beaten senseless by _him,_ _killed by him._

Sam was assaulted by the old memories that his brother had tried so hard to make him forget, the memories that Dean had tried to make him believe were not his fault

…_I watched myself kill him with my bare hands…it wasn't you Sam…I shot you Dean, __**you…**_

"Why?! I want to know why you killed him! I want to know why you killed my father!" Wandell was screaming at him, closing the distance between them with fiery rage bursting from her blue eyes. Sam couldn't meet the accusation they held, couldn't tear his own eyes from the screen searing the terrible memories yet deeper in his brain. He shook his head as if to clear it and bring himself back to the present, a tiny voice inside him denying the words spewing from Wandell's mouth. _It wasn't __**really **__me…I was possessed…it wasn't really me… was it? _

"_-_WHY?!"

"I'm sorry" he finally whispered, and he truly was sorry for her grief was stark in her eyes, along with her anger, "B-"

Suddenly Gordon's boot slammed into his wounded side and a ferocious agony radiated from the impact. Sam tried to curl in on himself, shuddering in pain despite his own protests to himself that he wouldn't show any but he couldn't help it, tears smarted in his eyes and a soft shout burst from his lips.

His hair was grabbed harshly and he was forced to sit up straight. Sam obeyed the pull on his head, unable to fight both it and the nausea flooding his senses. Gordon's eyes were devoid of any remorse or emotion save the malicious delight he couldn't hide.

"You better answer her properly Sammy. Sorry doesn't cut it!" He yelled.

"I was possessed. I couldn't stop it!" Sam said weakly, stars dancing across his vision.

"Possessed?! Ha!" Gordon spat out, laughing humourlessly and Wandell grinned, "Try again." A pressure on his side caused Sam to tense his muscles again; Gordon's knee was poised on his bleeding wound, ready to draw back at any moment.

"It's the truth!" Sam yelled desperately. His swimming vision went white at the same time as the pain before dimming back down to an incomplete darkness. He almost wanted the darkness to close in around him and cut off the agonising hurt burning within him, consuming him.

"It's true! The demon bound itself to me-my arm!" Sam practically screamed the last word as Gordon dug a finger into the gouge in his side, his own cry mingling with Sam's hoarse yell.

"You lie demon!"

"He's not lying…" Wandell said softly from behind him. Sam had not even noticed her hand on his arm, forcing the sleeve of his shirt up to expose the old scar. "You were possessed." She said flatly, coming to stand before him, an odd look in her eye, one that Sam could not place. Had he convinced her?! Hope surged within him, railing against the despair settling over his heart.

Gordon turned to look sharply at Wandell, "Of course he's lying-he wasn't possessed- he IS a _demon_!"

Sam looked between the pair, wondering whether Wandell would believe him or Gordon, wondering how long this would go on, wondering how much longer he would have to hold out for Dean to get to him…

"No." Wandell said, her blue eyes darkening, "That would be me."

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(Don't hate me for that cliffy! I know it's cruel but I like to keep you hungry lol :) xxx )


	7. Chapter 7

Hey there-sorry about the delay in posting this, I've been real busy the past few days! Thanks again for all the amazing reviews! They inspire me to work faster for you all xx

_**Chapter 7**_

Before Gordon could do more than gape he was tossed aside to crash through the wall. He landed outside with a dull _splat_, rain washing over his shocked face. Sam watched wide-eyed as the demon walked over to him, put a boot over his throat, and squeezed. The low gargling he emitted could be heard through the wind and whilst Wandell's attention was diverted Sam struggled with his bound hands.

"Goddammit!" he breathed. He really had to start carrying paperclips…He cast his eyes around the floor for anything he might be able to use. Nada. He cussed again, a little more vehemently.

"Don't think I don't know what's going on Sammy. Stay still and I'll get to you…nice and slow…" Her attention had never left Gordon, heel digging in viciously whilst he struggled to escape her inhuman strength, curses pouring from his mouth.

_Nice and slow…_the words echoed round Sam's head, seeming familiar…_nice and slow…_

"Meg!" He cried, unable to stop himself.

Finally she spun around to face him across the expanse of floor between them. He felt small beneath her gaze as she smiled, tilted her head and intoned, "Bingo." She sauntered over to him, chestnut hair flaming round her pale face, and sat down over his outstretched legs. Sam grimaced at her proximity, pulling away into the post at his back. _Deja-vu…man, what a bitch…_

"Oh, don't be like that!" She admonished, running a finger down his cheek, " It's been a while since I saw you, and your brother…How is Dean's shoulder by the way?"

"Screw you!" Sam yelled, squirming under her as she leaned over him to whisper in his ear. Meg's words were lost as his gaze fell on a hair pin nestled in her fiery tresses. It was his only chance.

"What do you want from me?" he growled. _I have to keep her talking…keep her busy…come on Dean!_

"You're going to lead my dad's army-_**my** _army- and be a good little soldier." she cooed.

"Yah! Or what?!" Sam spat, glaring at her ferociously. His eyes flew to her hair again. _Almost there…_

Meg seemed to consider his question as she drew back to look him in the eye, a malicious joy glittering behind the black in her own as she whispered, "Or Dean dies. You don't wanna kill him too, do you? Not like your Mom, or little Jess or your Dad?"

"You bitch" Sam whispered, flinty anger raging in his normally calm eyes.

"Or Jake?" she continued letting out a soft laugh as Sam visibly paled before her. "I knew you'd come around and see it my way."

"Right. Welcome to the dark side" Sam said, tone dripping in sarcasm and loathing. He shook his head in both anger and refusal, his features set in grim determination.

"I'm not in the mood for games Sam!" Meg screamed, face a bright shade of puce, "But if that's the only way…"

With feigned reluctance Meg brought her knee up and slammed it into Sam's side. When the blinding pain smothering him finally cleared a little she continued, "…I've got all day."

Sam coughed violently, head still moving from side to side in protest. "Never!"

He tensed as he felt Meg move back ready to take another swing and swiftly brought his own leg up catching her under the chin. A short cry escaped her before Sam head butted her and she crumpled under his well aimed shot, lying prone on the unyielding floor.

Sam groaned and looked up through foggy eyes, searching her hairline. The hairpin was gone. Anxiety swept over Sam as he cast his gaze wider and it still couldn't see it. He lay his head back against the post with a laughter bourn of frustration and irony spilling from him.

_Great…that's just friggin' brilliant Sam…what the-oh thank god!_

A slight smile graced Sam's weary face, lighting up his brown eyes. The hairpin lay beside his thigh. The sudden smile was banished as soon as it arrived, the dry voice in his head back, _Not exactly within easy reach…_

Several agonising minutes later Sam had finally managed to manoeuvre himself into a position where he was able to pick up the hair clip. By now his wrists were raw and bleeding and his left side was drenched in both blood and sweat. Panting heavily he fumbled behind him, his slick hands dropping the clip more than once before the tiny _click_ sounded releasing him from his torture.

Relief washed over his exhausted body and Sam swooned as he stood up. He looked down to check himself over and found that he had lost far more blood than he'd initially anticipated. There was nothing he could do about that now though so he dragged Wandell's body to the post he had been tied to and shut her wrists inside the cuffs. He was careful not to cause any additional pain to her with the knowledge that Wandell was in there somewhere, lost behind Meg's demonic presence. He had to get her out!

She moaned and shifted slightly and alarm bells rang in Sam's pulsing head. He had to make sure Meg couldn't escape before he could free Wandell from her bodily prison…_A Ring of Solomon!_

Sam hurried about the garage and eventually found some old paint that he daubed over the floor around Wandell's limp body.

Just as he finished a familiar sound permeated the buzzing in his ears and he grinned broadly. He would know that engine anywhere.

"Dean!" he whispered, his voice almost a sigh of relief. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of an arm and jogged outside into the rain just in time to see the shining Impala pull up. Even through the misted glass Sam could see the relief on his older brother's face.

"Sam!" His voice held the same relief and Sam smiled more broadly still.

"Shit! You alright? Let me look at you" Dean ordered as he sighted the blood all over Sam's left side. Bobby appeared at Dean's side and nodded to the youngest Winchester in greeting but the sparkle in his eyes told Sam how glad the old friend really was to see him alive and well.

"Dude! I'm okay." Sam assured, mustering as much enthusiasm as his aching body would allow. It was evident his brother could see through it though as he merely quirked an eyebrow in an expression that Sam had long ago termed the _don't bullshit me_ look. He snorted, "Alright but we can worry about me later. Right now we got a bigger problem." He looked at them both seriously.

Dean and Bobby exchanged looks of trepidation and Dean then said, "Worse than Gordon?", he frowned and shook his head, "Not possible. We can take Wandell out no problem. Where is he, Sam? Where's Gordon?"

"Dean! Listen to me man-" Sam sighed in exasperation, his tone reflecting his urgency. But it was too late, a scream wailed through the soft pattering rain, filled with rage and hate and desire.

"What the hell was that?!" Bobby exclaimed. Dean already had his gun pulled out of his waistband and was directing it at the garage door. He glanced back at Sam, his eyes intense in the gloom.

"That was Meg."

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Well I hope that was worth the wait and more is on the way soon! As always feedback is more than welcome. xxx


	8. Chapter 8

A huge thankyou to everyone who is still following this story and continuing to review it! Your comments keep me going when I'm writing the next chapters. Anyway thanks again and I hope you enjoy! xx

_**Chapter 8**_

Dean felt a chill sweep through him at Sam's dire pronouncement. _Meg…_how could a name hold so many agonising memories…?

…_I begged you to stop me Dean…I told you I can't fight it!…back from the dead…like a cockroach…Hell, it's like, well Hell-even for demons…and you sent me back there…all I had to hold on to was that one day I'd climb my way back out and torture you…nice and slow…_

"Dean?" he was pulled back from the pain-filled past by a light pressure on his arm. It was Sam. He stood peering down at Dean, brown eyes filled with compassionate understanding, concern, trust. Dean looked up and flinched as more memories assaulted him.

_Sam's normally warm voice cold and harsh, eyes dead…'you're worthless. You couldn't save your dad and deep down, you know that you can't save your brother…'_

Dean dropped his eyes, unable to look at Sam. _Meg was right. I failed him…I'm sorry Sammy…_

"…sorry."

"What?" Sam's voice broke through his hazy reverie and Dean cleared his throat.

"What?! Sorry. I'm just shocked, is all." He gave a shrug. Sam's eyes narrowed in suspicion but he was too weary to argue so merely nodded.

Dean also caught Bobby's shrewd gaze lingering on him, accusing him. He scowled and the older man hastily turned away to the Impala and came back with a few choice weapons for Sam.

"Here. Let's get this over with." With that he clapped Sam on the shoulder and headed for the open garage door, more screaming promises of pain and death meeting his ears at every step. He turned to Dean with a half smile. "Very original."

Dean snorted in reply but appreciated Bobby's attempt at humour. Still, only one thing really calmed him down.

"Are you humming Metallica?!" Bobby's incredulous face turned round again, eyebrows almost disappearing under his battered cap.

Dean exchanged a smirk with Sam who then explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "It calms him down."

Bobby heaved a long suffering sigh, his soft words echoing back to the brothers, "…damn Winchester's…"

Dean glanced over at Sam again. He was smiling slightly despite his obvious pain and Dean was sure the same memory was filtering through his brother's mind. He hurried forwards and entered the dingy room; a shaft of grey light filtered through a hole in the roof to land on the struggling figure of Wandell; a projector screen behind them looped over the security tape of Sam killing her father; various weapons lay on a table beside what could only be Gordon's bag. _Gordon_!

"Where's Gordon?!" Dean hissed. Sam and Bobby both stopped dead in their tracks and swivelled to face him. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, "Well?"

A low laugh from the other end of the room sounded and for a moment Dean thought he'd found his answer but it was only Meg.

"Don't worry. He's taken care of. Now, you wanna untie me so we can play nice?"

Sam dashed outside through a hole in the wall to check on the vampire hunter whilst Dean glared at Meg, eyes alight with a burning anger and hatred as he yelled, "Go to Hell!"

She flinched in mock hurt, her voice sweet as she looked up coyly through her lashes. "Is that any way to treat an old friend Dean?"

Pouting in what looked like consideration the eldest Winchester gave a curt nod and replied, "You're right. Go to Hell you bitch!"

"Been there. Done that." she shrugged, suddenly nonchalant.

…_and you sent me back there…all I had to hold on to was that one day I'd climb my way back out and torture you…nice and slow…_

"Yeh well, you're going right back." Dean groused, as much danger in his voice as his fiery eyes. With that he pulled out his father's journal and began reciting the familiar Latin verse.

He paused for breath and noted Bobby pulling out a flask of holy water from his jeans. The older man upended its contents over Wandell's body causing Meg to writhe and scream in pain, her shrieks merging with the hissing stream billowing around her. Sam came back in, a bucket of rainwater in hand. He too recited some Latin before showering Meg in yet more holy water.

Suddenly, just as Dean began reciting again, Meg's screaming ceased, to be replaced with a cold laughter that reverberated round the empty room, its sinister echoes seeping into his mind, chiselling away fragments of diminishing hope.

"Holy Water…real cute." Meg smiled, tilted her head and continued, now looking at Sam, "I thought we had a deal? No? Oh well, more fun for me!"

Latin screamed from her mouth swifter than either Winchester could combat, her words thundering round the small room. The very foundations of the garage shook, dust and rain showering down in an endless stream and then with a resounding _crack _the Ring of Solomon split asunder.

"That's better" Meg said softly, cricking her neck as she snapped the cuffs round her wrists. They clattered to the sodden floor.

Dean picked himself up from the floor, his silver gun trained on Meg as she took a slow, deliberate step forward.

"Dean no!" Sam yelled, shoving his arm down. "You can't shoot her-Wandell's inside!"

"I don't care!" Dean growled.

"Dean!" Sam looked at him hard and Dean felt his resolve ebbing away as he met his brother's gaze; it was gentle, understanding, pleading, determined, all at once. He sighed and lowered his gun, jaw clenched with the effort, mind furiously thinking of any way he could get them all out of there.

"That's better" Meg repeated. She fixed her dark eyes on Sam, "I will give you only one last chance Sam. Come with me-or Dean dies."

Without warning Dean's feet left the ground and he cried out, thrashing against the invisible hand toying with him, a disembodied voice floating through his clouded mind…_torture you…nice and slow…_

A second voice, one warm and familiar, called out. It called his name, urgently,_ Dean!_, but he couldn't keep his eyes open, couldn't fight the darkness closing in around him. _You can't fight it…there are no weapons to fight the dark…_Yet he tried nonetheless, gasping in a lungful of air, eyes bulging from his head.

"STOP IT!" Sam screamed. Dean was going purple from lack of oxygen and Bobby wasn't faring much better-he was pushed up, hard against a wall, unable to move.

Normal colour slowly returned to his older brother's face but Sam knew that he still wasn't getting enough air. He had no choice.

With a heavy heart he uttered the words Meg wanted to hear. "Alright. I'll do it just…just let them go."

"No Sammy!" Dean's strangled voice croaked. His head was shaking feebly in protest, eyes watering in pain. Sam met his tormented gaze and shook his head sadly, sending a mute apology.

Meg suddenly laughed loudly, releasing her hold on Dean and Bobby, a triumphant smile plastered sickeningly on her pale face. Sam glanced over at his brother, a wink creasing his eyelid.

"It's me you want." Sam said turning back to Meg, jaw set, eyes hard, "Come and take me."

Dean mumbled a warning, pushing himself upright. He had to do something to help!

Sam ignored his movements lest he draw attention back to Dean. He met Meg's black eyes unflinchingly, daring her to try and take him away, praying she wouldn't see Dean's groping hands falling over a shovel.

"Nice try Sammy. But I don't believe you. Looks like I was right-you're just trying to play me like a fool. Well no more games!" she said, her voice like granite.

With a flick of her wrist Dean was sent crashing back into the wall, shovel lying discarded on the floor. Sam's mind screamed at him to try and do something but he was frozen to immobility, able only to watch Meg step closer and closer and-

A huge rumbling crept slowly over the shivering garage sending quakes through the old roof and floor. Sam looked upwards to be blinded by a fresh rush of dust. Bobby, too, was staring up at the ceiling, wide-eyed. Meg, however, did not notice or else did not care; she continued to walk towards him doggedly, promises of pain and torture hidden behind the elation in her eyes. A loud groan from overhead sent spikes of warning through Sam even before his brother yelled.

"GET DOWN!" Dean's strained, panic-filled voice was the last thing he heard before the roof caved in, encasing them in a tomb of dusty rubble.

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I know I seem to be developing a nasty habit of leaving you guys with a cliffy so sorry for that! again! I'll be nice eventually I promise lol :) xxx


	9. Chapter 9

Hey-thanks to everyone who has reviewed lately-it's really keeping me going as we near the ened of this story. But don't worry! a few more chapters to come (I think) Anyhoo, enjoy xxx

_**Chapter 9**_

Sam groaned as he levered himself up into a sitting position, planks of wood and pieces of plasterboard crumbling over his back at every movement. He could feel several bruises already forming over his body and everything ached as he forced his shaking legs to hold his weight. He looked around, still coughing dust from his lungs, searching for signs of movement elsewhere in the rubble.

"Dean? Dean? Bob-" Sam's hoarse voice cut off mid sentence as another fir of coughing jarred through him. He bent double, clutching his side in an attempt to stop the blinding pain spiking through him with each sucking breath. Why was it so hard to breath…?

A noise to his right made Sam spin round, wide-eyed, bloody hand stretched out before him as if in warding.

"Sam, that you? Jesus! You alright?" Bobby stepped out from the cloud of dust shrouding him, concern written all over his ashen face. Sam found the older man's strong hand on his shoulder, piercing eyes roving over his face and body in shock.

"Yeah, you?" Sam replied, ignoring the look on his friend's face as he straightened up, brushing dust from his unruly mop of longish brown hair. He cast his gaze around the fallen ruins, trained eyes piercing the gloom in search of his brother.

"'m good." Bobby growled, still squinting at Sam.

"Where's Dean?" _Tell me he' s okay, he's gotta be okay…_

"Sam?" A shaky voice whispered from the corner. Bobby and Sam exchanged a momentary glance before simultaneously jumping over piles of fallen roofing. It was not a good sign that Dean's voice was so quiet. Sam saw Dean's foot sticking out from under a massive pile of wood and began heaving it off of him frantically with the aid of Bobby.

"Dean! You alright? Let me look at you." Sam breathed, ignoring the stabs of pain lancing through his chest, thorny vines wrapping around his lungs, squeezing, squeezing...

"I'm …just… peachy." Dean ground out between clenched teeth, his stomach muscles tightening to allow him to sit upright. He could feel Sam and Bobby's eyes boring into him and could picture their expressions before he even looked up; Bobby would be shaking his head in fond exasperation and Sam would be pouting. He wasn't disappointed and had to hide his smirk as Sam raised his eyebrows and Dean fully expected him to cross his arms over his chest indicating that he could do this all day. Dean threw his arms out, "Fine! I have a bitch of a head ache Sam, happy now?"

His little brother's lips pressed together in a frown that spread over his face, eyebrows pinching together over the bridge of his nose as he looked at Dean's still sprawled form.

"Really Sam. I'm fine-just a few scratches." _And a concussion…_

"Yah and a concussion!" Sam snorted, squatting down before him.

_Dude! How the hell?!_ Dean shook his head. Sam could read him like a book.

"Ouch! What the hell are you doing?!" Dean said, swatting away Sam's hand. His brother merely swatted him back, silencing any protest with _the look, _and continued to press on his pounding hairline.

"You're bleeding a lot man." Sam worried his bottom lip. Dean merely looked pointedly at Sam and he looked down at himself, suddenly realising why Bobby had looked so horrified. His shirt was soaked through with blood on one side and it had dripped down onto the waistband of his jeans.

"Alright. Point taken." Sam conceded. He held out a hand to help his brother to his feet, catching him as he staggered forwards. Dean pushed away grouchily, eager to prove he was alright if it meant Sam would stop fussing.

"You boys might wanna come and take a look at this. We got a problem." Came Bobby's deep growl.

Wordlessly the Winchesters made their way over to the older man, crouching down beside him. Wandell lay unconscious before him, held in place by a pile of debris, blood trickling from her cheek. Bobby pulled at her sleeve and exposed a small circular burn with a line through one end.

Sam unconsciously rubbed at the old scar on his forearm and Dean's hazel eyes widened in recognition, remembrance.

…_I've learned a few tricks since then…It's a binding link!… _

"How do we get rid of it?" Sam asked uncertainly. They didn't have anything to burn it from Wandell's arm…

To his left Dean reached a hand behind him and retrieved his Bowie knife. "Like this." He said, leaning in.

"Wait!" Sam shouted, staying Dean's hand with his own. Dean's eyes flew to his face as did Bobby's and he hastily continued, "Are you sure it will work? I mean what if it wakes her up? We're not ready for Meg yet."

Bobby scratched a hand over his scruffy beard, looking to Dean with a shrug.

"Can't hurt to wait-she doesn't look like she's gonna be comin' to any time soon." He reasoned.

Sam looked to his brother seeing the conflict warring within him; his jaw clenched rhythmically and his eyes darted uncertainly from Wandell's arm to his knife. How long could they conceivably wait around for Meg to show up? Would it be safer to wait or just get it over with? After a moment he seemed to come to a decision, his eyes taking on a resigned determination.

"Alright. But let's figure out what we're going to do fast."

Sam nodded and ran a hand over his mouth in thought whilst the eldest hunter meandered his way around the rubble, making his way to the Impala. When he returned five minutes later the brothers were hastily painting another Ring of Solomon on the floor around Wandell's limp body. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Hey, it will at least slow her down-even if she does know how to get out again!" Dean said defensively. Bobby nodded wordlessly, snaking over to them, an ancient volume under his arm.

"You sure you're alright Sam?" He said suddenly. The youngest Winchester was coughing violently again.

Sam wiped a trembling hand over his mouth and gave a weak nod.

"Shit! Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, hurrying to his side big-brother mode in full swing. He snatched Sam's large hand in his own, a gasp of horror escaping his lips as he took in the spots of blood dotted there.

"It's fine, really, it's-"

"Shut up Sammy!" Dean shouted over him, panic in his voice. How had he missed that?! He had to get Sam to a hospital!

"Dean! It's just a scratch, see…" He indicated a cut on his lip that kept splitting open, "Believe me-I would tell you if I thought I was bleeding internally!" There was a note of gentle sarcasm in his voice.

"Then what's with all the coughing?" Dean said suspiciously, not willing to take an chances with his brother's health. _Not after…_

A slight blush coloured Sam's cheeks as he looked between Dean and Bobby.

"I-eh-I breathed in dust…sorry. I didn't mean to worry you." He said sheepishly.

Dean visibly sagged in relief, hazel eyes bright despite the dim light. He punched Sam lightly on the arm, "Don't do that again, man." He said, trying to hide the tears in his eyes. What the hell was wrong with him?!

"Well then, come here and take a look at this…" Bobby beckoned the boys over and they hunched over his yellowing book finding themselves staring at a page covered in sketches of a variety of protective circles. Bobby's calloused finger pointed at one in particular.

"We already tried a Ring of Solomon Bobby. Twice. We know it doesn't work." Dean said in confusion.

"I know that wiseass. Look closer." Bobby instructed.

Sam was already peering at the book. "There are extra symbols…what do they do?"

Bobby nodded appreciatively, glaring pointedly at Dean before answering.

"They combat that little Latin phrase our lady's so fond of." He said dryly giving a nod towards Meg. A smug smile creased his craggy face, "She won't get out of it this time", he assured.

Sam and Dean grinned at one another and began adding the extra symbols to the ring already painted on the floor.

As Sam straightened up he swooned a little and pressed a hand to his side with a grimace. He let out a groan as he released the pressure a few moments later. He turned away surreptitiously checking his wounded left side and frowned further; it was bleeding less heavily but it was slightly swollen. Infection was setting in. He gave a curse under his breath.

He turned back to Dean, wondering if he should tell him or just get the job done. His father's stern voice echoed through his head deciding for him. They needed to end this. End Meg.

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See, I was nice:) technically that doesn't count as a cliffy! As always feedback is welcome. Thanks for reading! xxx


	10. Chapter 10

Hi everyone-I'm really sorry for how long this chapter has taken to get posted but I had a heap of stuff to sort out for University that couldn't wait! But anyways here is the next installment-nice and long so I hope you like it and that it lives up to the wait! ;)

_**Chapter 10**_

It was raining lightly over the fallen outbuilding that Dean crawled around in, keen eyes questing for his father's journal, but the dark clouds looming overhead promised a storm.

…_there's a storm comin', and you boys are smack in the middle of it…_

Dean grumbled at the thought. Damn he was freezing his ass off out here! He glanced, yet again, at his younger brother who didn't seem to be faring much better; he hunkered over Bobby's books in deep conversation with the older man, his face pale and drawn. He was notably shivering and Dean just wanted to get him away from here-away from everything that would remind him of this shitty day. He was also sure Sam was hiding something from him but, as of yet, had not managed to wheedle it out of him, his stoic Winchester stubbornness choosing now to kick in.

"You okay? What? I have a sign on my head or something?" Sam asked with a smile. Dean realised he had been scrutinising him rather unsubtly so tried to make light of it he using his trademark humour.

"Yeah. Bitch." He smirked, turning back to his search, the fond amusement in Sam's tired voice meeting his ears over the gentle plopping of the rain, "Jerk."

"Yahtzi!" Dean cried triumphantly, journal held aloft as if in reverence. Sam and Bobby wore matching expressions of bemusement as he trekked over to them.

"You ready?" he asked, observing the others. Bobby gave a curt nod which Sam seconded after a moment. Dean's gaze lingered on him taking in his appearance, his demeanour, his bright eyes…was that pain?

He narrowed his hazel eyes in suspicion and Sam met his questioning gaze with his own one, trying to pretend he didn't know the reason why Dean was watching him so closely. Bobby followed the silent exchange with confusion. Just as Dean was about to open his mouth Sam jumped in hastily, "Then let's do this."

Dean stared at him a moment more, seemingly satisfied with the determination he now saw in his brother, before flashing an excited grin. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and tried to return the sentiment even though he knew Dean would see through it straight away.

Crossing over to Wandell's still body the three hunters took up their positions: Dean stood with the open journal, words waiting to be released from his mouth; Bobby held a knife in a tight fist as he crossed the circle to cut Wandell's arm; Sam waited on the far side of the circle, a bucket of holy water ready.

Blood blossomed under the tip of Bobby's sharp knife and Wandell groaned, eyelids fluttering open. Dean began chanting.

"Make it stop!" Wandell screamed suddenly, wriggling under Bobby's firm grip as he pressed the knife deeper into her skin.

Suddenly Wandell gasped and her blue eyes clouded over. She blinked them open to reveal black orbs. Out of the corner of his eye Dean saw Sam tense, bucket poised, ready.

His attention was drawn back to Meg as she grabbed Bobby's arm in a vice grip. She glowered at him, an evil smile marring her pretty features as she glanced to the ground.

"You should watch where you're standing old man" she growled.

Dean's eyes flew to Bobby's foot. It was breaching the circle. The elder hunter looked up for a moment, a mute apology in his wide eyes, before Meg's inhuman strength had him lifted by his neck and dangled out of the circle.

Sam threw the holy water over Meg desperately. She merely twitched as it rolled down her back, ignoring the steam billowing off her as she stepped calmly out of the Ring of Solomon. He took an uncertain step back wondering how powerful Meg was, looking to Dean for reassurance but as Dean glanced at his him he saw his own shocked expression mirrored back at him. Shit! Neither one of them had expected that if the ring was breached it wouldn't hold power. How were they going to get her back inside it?!

"That, was careless" Meg stated with a nod, her dead eyes boring into Bobby's before she flung him aside like a rag doll. Her hand shot out to the side as Sam's long arm drew back and she caught the bucket before it crashed into her head. Sam tugged at it but she was too strong. Wordlessly she turned on him, face filled with eerie calm.

Dean dropped the journal for his gun and he took aim. Meg flicked her slim wrist and Dean froze helplessly to the spot. "Get away from him!" he screamed angrily.

"Ssh" Meg soothed sibilantly, advancing on his younger brother. He could see the trepidation in Sam's brown eyes, masking something like acceptance and pain. "Sammy, that wasn't very nice. I'm only trying to do what's best for you," Meg chastised her expression darkening as she continued, "Maybe it will help if I provide a little…persuasion…"

Sam's face fell in horror as he saw Dean crumple to the floor, his face a mask of pain as he clutched his chest, silent screams trapped inside his shaking body.

"Dean! Dean! Stop it!" Sam cried helplessly.

Dean turned beseeching eyes to him as blood trickled over his full lips Sam's face paled as old memories assaulted him.

…_Dad! Don't you let It kill me!…_

Sam blinked back the tears clouding his vision owlishly, stunned to immobility until his brother's broken voice whispered to him, "Sammy!" The plea there did not go unheard.

…_Sammy! Don't you let It kill me!…_

"NO!" Sam screamed out through clenched teeth, exerting all his willpower into moving his locked muscles.

…_make the gun float to you there psychic boy…I've got plans for you…all the children like you…plans for you…plans for you…_

"We've got plans for you Sammy. We _need _you. _Dean_ needs you!" Meg whispered in his ear, her breath hot on his icy cheek. _Like father like daughter. _He shuddered.

Sam managed a small shake of his head, his eyes never leaving his brother's, grinding out a refusal. He saw a flicker of pride in Dean's pained eyes. _'Atta boy Sammy…_

"NO! Dean, look at me man! You can't…I'm supposed to find a way to save you! DEAN! NO!" Sam bellowed as Dean's head drooped. A gasp escaped Meg and a vain throbbed in her neck before Dean slumped, gasping in air. She turned to face Sam, a surprised sneer on her face.

"That the best you can do Sam? You need more work than I thought…"

"Bite me!" Sam scowled. He balled up his fists, shaking with the strange energies pulsing through him as he strained to keep Meg in place, no idea of what he had done to make her leave Dean.

She cocked her head to one side, chestnut hair falling over her cut cheek, "Maybe I will." She pushed back with her own power, moving irrevocably towards him, her mouth in a wide leer.

Dean gurgled in frustration, attempting to push to his feet to aid Sam, his raw voice searing into Dean, giving him purpose. Sam actually needed him! He fell back down weak and shaking before he got to both knees unable to stop his head lolling back to land with a dull squelch in the sodden ground. He stared up at the sky not sure whether it was the brooding clouds darkening his vision or unconsciousness coming to steal him away. Cold rain grazed his face, lulling, soothing, entrancing…He could hear shouts of pain, of anger and somewhere deep inside him he knew Sam needed help. He remembered his baby brother's pale face; He was already hurt- he couldn't take this too. He needed him! _Get up! Get up…have to help…have to save Sammy. I can't loose him!_

With Herculean effort Dean forced his feet under him. He wiped the blood from his mouth with a trembling hand and blinked to lift the fog over his eyes because what he was seeing couldn't be true: Sam and Meg stood facing each other, unseen energies crackling around them, _through_ them, a phantom wind wiping their hair into a frenzy of red and brown streamers. _What do I do?!_

Sam's eyes fell on Dean and Dean saw something within him waver as relief spread over his grim features. Meg's arms shot into the air and lightning crackled around her. The air tingled, it tasted of metal and Dean looked up to see the roiling clouds swirling above them as if Meg was feeding off their energy. Sam stood no chance, he was already faltering, giving in.

…_I don't belong here Dean…I should be dead…said it yourself…what's dead should stay dead…_

"Sam!" Dean called out, his voice a warning as he looked at the sky. He saw Sam steel himself for another onslaught of power from Meg and his heart almost broke that he couldn't do anything to help him share this burden, this pain.

No-one noticed Bobby stir and rise. The veteran hunter applied all his stealth and skulked around behind his young friends, desperate to help…

Despite Dean's warning Sam couldn't find the strength to hold off Meg any longer. What was the point? He couldn't hold her off forever. He found his vision narrowing, shimmering oddly as it faded…His knees were in the mud and cold rain was rolling down the back of his neck, dripping from his tousled hair…_drip…drip…drip_…

Meg let out a scream of ecstasy as the Latin spell she had been weaving filled her with more power. Sam was, despite her bravado, much stronger than she had anticipated. But she had one thing he didn't: skill. She let the full force of her power go, screaming from her mouth.

…_Drip…white hot pain, searing, burning…can't breath! Dean…don't let me go again…scared…_ "Dea-"

The name died on his lips before his head hit the ground and that familiar darkness stole over him with greedy, beckoning fingers.

"SAM! You bitch!" Dean screamed.

He hurled himself towards the possessed woman, clinging to her back like a limpet as she struggled to fling him off. His grip never relented until her head slammed back into his own leaving him strewn on the ground yet again. _This is it…we're finished…_

Dean threw his arms up in vain defence as Meg careened forwards but she never struck him. He blinked stupidly. Bobby! The older man stood above Dean, a hand outstretched to help him to his feet, his creased face perfectly calm. Dean grasped his hand and allowed himself to be pulled up. Without missing a beat he spun on his heel to see Meg back inside the Ring of Solomon.

He and Bobby exchanged dark, grim smiles, knowing that this time she couldn't escape; her binding link was gone and she was powerless, trapped. She was going to Hell.

Bobby began reciting Latin over Meg's outraged screaming but Dean put a hand on his arm, stopping him immediately. He answered the question in the old friends eyes.

"I need to finish this." He said, voice thick with emotion.

Bobby nodded wordlessly, stepping back as if to give Dean some space or privacy.

"Gonna finish me off now Dean Winchester? You think that will stop me? I'll just climb right back out again. You won't always be here to save Sammy." Meg said meeting the raging tempest in Dean's eyes with her own violent, stormy gaze.

"Yes I will." Dean said, suddenly realising he had every faith in Sam to find a way to save him, "And I will _always_ be here to send you back where you belong."

"You can't kill me Dean," she growled.

"Don't you worry sweetheart-I'll find a way," Dean assured, his steely eyes seconding his promise, "Just like your Daddy and your brother…"

And so, thinking of his own family, Dean sent Meg back to the fiery pit of Hell.

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Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing this fic-each and every comment makes my day!! x


	11. Chapter 11

hello again all-sorry about the delay in posting this I had a meeting at Uni and a few other things to sort out. But anyhow enough about me and back to the boys! but first a massive thankyou to everyone who ahs reviewed this story-it really makes my day when I get your comments. (Thanks again to Yami no Kokoro who pointed out that chestnut and red and two different hair colours-lol my bad- thought they were like the same but apparantly the red-brown hair colour is auburn so yeh forget about that and consider Wandell a redhead! Hope that didn't spoil it too much for anyone who knew that already)

Ramble over...yeh the swearing in this one is a bit stronger just to warn you.

_**Chapter 11**_

An ominous rumble sounded overhead before a fork of lightning streaked its way across the violet sky. Dean glanced up to the stormy clouds before a low moan issued from a sprawled form on the floor a few meters away. Ignoring the now pounding rain he squatted before his younger brother and called his name, unable to hide the desperation in his voice.

"Sammy wake up…I know you can hear me, come on…Sam? Open your eyes!" An icy dread took hold of Dean when Sam gave no response and he found his fingers searching for a pulse on his brother's fevered skin.

_Shit! Why didn't he tell me? Shitshitshitshit…_It was fluttering, erratic, slow.

"SHIT! Sam! Don't you do this to me, you hear me? I can't lose you again…" his voice hitched as he cradled Sam in his arms, taking in his bruised face, "…I just got you back…"

"Dean?" Bobby's concerned growl caused the elder Winchester to look up. Bobby saw the almost blank desperation in his eyes and felt his own heart come up to throb mercilessly in his throat. _No…he can't be…not again…_

"Yeah?" Dean replied, his voice nothing more than an exhausted exhale. He wasn't completely despondent so…hope caused the heart in Bobby's throat to bulge painfully…He took a closer look at the still figure in Dean's lap and his heart returned-albeit reluctantly-to its normal position. Sam was alive. Just unconscious. He forced himself to take a calming breath and took charge trying to spur Dean into action.

"Son," He rasped gently, lowering Wandell's head to the ground to trudge over to the brothers, "We should clean up and get them outta here. Let me get his feet." He said, not waiting for an answer before he loosely took hold of Sam's freakishly long legs.

Dean looked up slowly, realisation spreading over his face. Bobby swore he saw Dean blush at that instant, knowing that he'd let his barriers fall down, let Bobby _see_, but the old hunter wisely ignored the fleeting expression as Dean hefted his brother up. A few minutes later, once Sam was settled as best as they could manage on the back seat of the Impala, Dean's barriers were back up, the raw fear in his eyes gone to be replaced by the familiar steely determination and burning protectiveness Bobby was so used to seeing. He smiled to himself before nodding at Dean.

"You good?"

"Yup." Dean said, his eyes softening briefly as he squeezed Bobby's forearm. He knew Bobby could see the silent _thank you _in that small gesture because the older hunter became flustered, as awkward with chick flick moments as himself. Dean slid into the Impala and stuck his head out the window, ignoring the howling wind and rain lashing at his face as he strained to catch Bobby's words.

"See ya back at mine in a few?"

Dean waved a hand in acknowledgement, agreement and peeled back onto the rough track, cursing at the muddy puddles splashing up the side of his prized car. His eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror; he caught sight of Bobby carefully lifting Wandell into her own car before his gaze fell onto Sam. He was shuddering violently beneath the blanket wrapped around him, his breath coming in wet gasps or moans, water from his shaggy hair dripping over his ashen face.

Dean's foot pressed more firmly on the gas. He needed to get Sam back inside, out of the cold, the rain. Needed to get his fever down and deal with the infection his brother quite clearly had. He needed to make things right.

Another glance into the mirror had his eyes filling with unshed tears. "I'm sorry Sammy." _Guess I'm supposed to fail you too…I screwed up..._

He turned onto the main road and after a short while passed the wreck of Bobby's pick-up. He found his eyes riveted to it as he drove past, knowing that Sam had been inside it when Gordon had been-_Holy Shit! Gordon!_

He slammed on his brakes as he pulled onto the side of the road. His cell was out before he even finished the motion.

Bobby answered after only one ring but Dean gave him no time to speak further.

"What the hell happened to Gordon? Where is he?" Dean demanded, turning to look at Sam as he shivered in the backseat, a low moan issuing from his parted lips.

"It's alright Dean. Gordon's dead. I saw him under a pile of rubble, nail sticking right outta his ugly head." Came the placatory reply.

Dean actually felt his head spin with relief. So alright it was partially the concussion. Whatever. The sick bastard was gone. He muttered a lame 'okay' as reply, hung up and pulled back out onto the road, finding himself at Bobby's within another five minutes.

Ignoring his protesting ribs and back Dean forced aching muscles to obey him as he half dragged half carried Sam inside the house, trying his best not to cause further injury in the process. He laid his little brother out on the sofa, giving a snort. _Little! Yah right._ The kid's legs hung over the edge by at least a foot.

He checked him over briefly, noting for the first time the severity of the wound on his brother's left side. He swore softly, shaking his head as he looked up at Sam's face, pain written all over it.

"Fuck Sammy, you got shot! And you didn't tell me! 'I'm fine Dean…fine'. Fine my ass." he grumbled, rubbing at the sudden stinging behind his eyes. He couldn't break apart now. Not yet. He had a job to do.

He eased wet clothes off of Sam, wincing each time his face showed any signs of discomfort, before covering him with some thick blankets and trotting hastily outside to fetch some supplies. Bobby was pulling up just as he stepped out from the porch.

"How's Sam?" he called. A second figure exited the vehicle, a tentative meek expression on their face. Wandell shivered at the rain cascading over her as she stood beside Bobby, anxiously awaiting Dean's reply.

"Not good. He got shot." Dean saw Wandell shudder, a guilty look entering her startlingly blue eyes, but he just ran back into the house, his own guilt smacking into him with each slushy step.

He should have known! Hell, he knew _something_-why didn't he check Sam over properly? Why did he listen to him? Why did he send him to the shops alone? Why did he have to fail him again? _Why, Why, WHY?!_

All breath left Dean's body as he slid into Bobby's front room and saw Sam lying on the sofa deathly still as if his own body refused to breath if Sam wasn't. Everything moved in slow motion as Bobby rushed into the room, Wandell trailing behind him, eyes wide, hair dripping wet, but Dean couldn't move. He stood rooted to the spot for what felt like an age before he dimly registered Sam's lean frame shudder under Bobby's touch, a gasping sound ripped from his strained lungs as he jack-knifed into a sitting position. _He's alive…breath Dean, breath!_

_Thank God!…_Dean's own breath came back in a rushing sigh of relief, his knees cracking painfully into the wooden floor as the world lurched sickeningly around him. Bobby looked over at him to appraise his condition but Dean was already at his side taking Sam's hand with unabashed need.

"Sammy…I thought you were…I thought…It's good to see you awake again kiddo." He gave Sam's clammy hand a squeeze. He was surprised at the strength of the grip that was returned though the accompanying voice was weak, tired, pained.

"I know. Sorry man. Arg!"

Dean shot Bobby a glare as Sam flinched and stiffened in pain at the hands prodding into him, "Easy on the goods Bobby." He said, his voice a growl. Sam merely groaned, allowing himself to slip back onto the sofa, head reeling, pounding…Bobby's words washed over him but he barely heard them, a ringing in his ears all but blocking the world out.

"Well, lucky for you it's a clean shot-through and through-missed major organs but you've lost way too much blood…"

Sam stopped hearing what Bobby was saying after that as the pain intensified to an unbearable level, his body shivering in protest to the infection settling in his wound. The only thing he registered was Dean's hand still fastened securely to his. His brother, his anchor, his savoir…The grip on his hand never wavered, it was the one constant thing he could recall as he slipped in and out of consciousness over the next few hours.

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As you can see we have returned to the wonderful world of angst...ah angst... Hope you guys enjoyed it and that the change of tempo worked okay. Thanks for sticking with this story-more on the way! x


	12. Chapter 12

Just want to thanks you guys again for all the lovely reviews-they are very encouraging! You guys rock:) x

_**Chapter 12**_

Sam finally settled into a restful sleep just after midnight, his fever reduced enough for his body to give in to exhaustion. Wandell sat in a far corner of the room asleep in a chair where she had eventually been forced to sit in by Bobby so he could check her over. Red hair cascaded over one side of her face obscuring the purple bruise on her cheek as well as the bandage covering a large gash on her forehead. She stirred slightly in her sleep, tossing in the rickety chair before settling down again. Her noise startled Dean from his guilty brooding for a moment.

He had sat holding Sam's hand for several hours now, bathing his forehead in cold water, ice, anything to bring down his fever. He had even coaxed him to take a few Tylenol before he had passed out from pain. He had insisted on stitching up Sam's bullet wounds himself- to Bobby's disgruntled acquiescence.

The old hunter had hovered over Dean, making sure that he was himself steady enough to work on Sam before Dean had glared at him one too many times and he eventually slumped off to tend to Wandell, who had also hovered over Dean, watching with fascinated horror, guilt. Even Bobby didn't trust him to take care of Sammy any more! But then how could he? He had failed to protect his brother _again-_ had nearly lost him _again. _

_God this is all my fault! I should have just talked to him when he wanted to-when he __**needed**__ me to talk to him! We would never have argued and he wouldn't have gone off to the shops and been caught by Gordon and-_

Dean glanced up for a moment hearing Wandell squirm in her chair, hazel eyes darkening as they settled on her sleeping form…_Meg would never have gotten to Sammy._

_Meg. _Dean shook his head angrily. How had he let this happen? How was he supposed to find a way to fix this before his time was up? He couldn't leave Sam knowing that Meg would one day claw her way back out of Hell and find him!

Not for the first time he wished his father were still alive-he would have known what to do…

He allowed himself to be sucked inexorably back into the raging torrent of questions swirling round his fuzzy brain, the _what if_'s and _if only_'s taunting him with their numbers.

Bobby was in his kitchen, a phone held up to his ear as he informed Deacon of the evenings events. The dark haired officer was equally as distraught as Bobby at what had happened to John's children, especially after the help Dean and Sam had given him. They had allowed themselves to be arrested to take care of a haunting in his prison and he wanted nothing more than to return that favour, stating that he would keep an eye out for anyone wanting to harm Sam and Dean. They had enough to deal with with the supernatural without adding sadistic humans to the mix.

Bobby thanked the old friend and ended the call, going to stand by the door to observe the boys. He scrubbed a weary hand over his features as he looked at them; Dean staring at Sam's supine form, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, from tears that he had tried to hide. One look at him and Bobby paced back to the kitchen to return a few moments later with a bottle of whiskey and a coffee.

He settled down on the sofa beside Sam's feet and peered down at him in sympathy unable to stop the fleeting thought that it was odd actually looking down on the tall youngster. He should never seem so small….

Dean didn't even notice his presence: he sat gazing at Sam's pale, innocent countenance, a firm yet gentle hand resting over his unruly mop of brown hair. Bobby cleared his throat as he thrust the steaming brew beneath his nose succeeding in finally drawing his attention. A wan, grateful smile was his thanks as Dean accepted the mug and gulped down a scalding mouthful with a satisfied moan.

"How you holdin' up?" Bobby asked, resettling the cap on his head after giving it a thoughtful scratch. Dean's unfocussed eye's answered for him but if he knew one thing about Dean Winchester it was his drive to watch out for Sam. He would not allow himself sleep while his brother was so helpless. He changed tact. _Get him to talk first._

"How's Sam?" This time Dean met his eyes.

Aching hazel stared back at him and for a moment Bobby wished Dean would turn back to his brother. But then the barrier was up once more, the guilt, the failure, pushed down, accepted.

"He's sleeping" Dean replied, unable to stifle a yawn that was closely followed by a hiss of pain as he stretched stiff muscles. He clutched his side unaware of the scowl Bobby wore.

"Dean you need to rest. Why don't you let me take over here huh?"

Despite the gentle tone Bobby used Dean could not help the flare of angry fear that pulsed through him. "NO! No…I don't wanna leave him…I promised…" he trailed off, ducking his head down with a shake as he murmured an apology for being so short. A reassuring hand on his shoulder told him Bobby understood and he looked up at the older man again, a sheepish smile so unlike his usual cocky grin playing over his tired face.

Bobby was shaking his head now, amusement evident in his voice. "Stubborn jackass…at least let me take a look at you." He didn't wait for a reply before he began prodding at the obstinate younger man.

Dean reluctantly released his brother's hand and allowed Bobby to check him over. He sat on the floor next to Sam, refusing to part any further than necessary, staring ineffectually at the storm outside through a rain drenched window. All he could really see was his own battered reflection gazing back at him…his brother lying so unusually still, broken…

A hiss of pain escaped him as Bobby found what was likely a few broken ribs that he had managed to ignore. That sounded about right given his luck…or lack thereof. He squeezed his eyes shut as a curse flew from his mouth, hands fisting into balls at his side.

"'m gonna need to wrap these Dean…for once I think you managed not to break 'em though-looks like mostly bruising…"

"Doesn't _feel_ like mostly bruising." Dean grumbled, taking the proffered bottle of whiskey and slugging down a few mouthfuls. He gave a sigh as the fiery warmth flowed through him, settling in the pit of his stomach, trying to ignore the chuckle that escape the older hunter. A few minutes later and Bobby had forcefully wrapped a bandage around him as well having cleaned out the deep gash on Dean's hairline.

"You really need to work on your bedside manner," Dean snarked, jerking back hastily before Bobby could start stitching him. A stern look came over the older man at which Dean shifted closer reluctantly, turning at the last second with a hand held up.

"Use the butterfly stitches!" he demanded. Bobby's brow raised in challenge. Hazel eyes flicked to Sam and Dean smirked trying to change tactic and act like Sammy. His eyes became orbs, his voice now imploring.

A hoot of laughter escape from under the red cap. Moments later Bobby's face turned up again to meet Dean's glare, tears of mirth in his eyes as he shook his head, suddenly all seriousness.

"Not a chance in Hell…quit being such a girl!" came the reprimand.

"Worth a try…" Dean muttered, swilling more hot amber liquid in preparation for the pain to come.

"Now that wasn't so bad was it?" Bobby asked a while later in a patronising voice, dabbing a large plaster in place over the stitches to prevent infection. An indistinct grumble came from the young man on the floor as he watched Bobby limp into the kitchen.

Sam groaned, shifting. Dean's hand was instantly holding his again, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand, as much a comfort for himself as his brother. He placed his other hand on Sam's forehead, pleased to feel his fever was somewhat abated. He was, however, still hot so Dean picked up the washcloth beside him and began moping over Sam's forehead, down his face, neck, and back again.

"Here-to keep you awake" Bobby handed over a huge mug-more of a tankard really, Dean surmised- of thick coffee.

"Thanks man" He said, his voice deep, husky, from both the whiskey and lack of sleep.

Bobby nodded, a mug held in his own hands as he cleared aside the first aid kits. He went off for a shower smiling when he returned to see Dean slumped on the floor beside the sofa, hand still in Sam's, sound asleep. His empty coffee mug sat discarded on the floor behind him.

"Stubborn jackass…" he muttered fondly. Moments later a woollen blanket found its way over Dean's slumbering form.

Bobby looked at his watch. It was 2:30am. He mused over his dilemma: Wake Dean to watch over Sam whilst he went to torch Gordon's remains or watch over them all himself and wait till morning. He knew Dean didn't want to be sleeping-that he wanted to watch over his brother but reasoned that he would wake Dean in an hour anyway to check on his concussion. Besides he needed the rest. The seasoned hunter went off into the kitchen this time returning with coffee for himself, decision made.

He would wake Dean in an hour and ask him what he wanted to do.

Bobby decided that either way it was going to be a very long night.

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So a change of pace in this chapter-thought the mood needed lightened a bit towards the end lol, much as I love angst. Possibly a few more chapters to go in this but I'm not sure- namely cause I can't decide whether to add in an extra bit that floating about my head so if you want me to keep going let me know lol! If not it will be wrapped up in maybe 2 chapters. Hope you're enjoying it anyway :) x


	13. Chapter 13

_**Chapter 13**_

_3:30am. _A short _beep _sounded. Harsh and electronic, it cut through the near silence that had been punctuated only by the natural _pitter-patter _of rain for the past hour.

Bobby growled as he rose from his seat, draining the last dregs of his now very cold and bitter coffee, stretching stiff muscles. Time for Dean's wakeup call. He ambled over to where the young hunter was sprawled on the ground noting the odd angle of his limbs. He shook his head, a grin hidden behind his beard, _jackass…_

"Hey Dean, wake up" Bobby lightly shook him and within seconds groggy eyes blinked at him in confusion.

"Bobby? Time is it?" Dean said, licking his lips in an effort to get some moisture into his rasping throat.

"A little after 3:30. You fell asleep."

"You let me sleep!" Dean said incredulously. Bobby smiled at the odd accusation, nodding as he stopped the seemingly omnipresent hat from sliding over his eyes.

Dean gave a groan as he pushed into a sitting position, popping his vertebrae back into their normal positions. His groan quickly turned into a gasp and he clutched his stomach as a sharp stab of pain radiated from below his ribs.

"You okay?" Bobby's voice had a strange echoing quality. Dean scrunched his face up a little. Bobby sounded like an old telephone, crackling and buzzy…_Not good. _A few deep breaths and the flare of pain had subsided to a pulsating ache.

The old hunter repeated his question, knowing something was up with Dean because he hadn't immediately answered and he had paled slightly. A feeling of foreboding wormed its way into Bobby's stomach even as the words meant to reassure him were spoken.

"Fine. How's Sam?" Dean opened heavy lids to peer down at his little brother, brushing his hair from his eyes.

"He's fine. Dean?" Bobby's tone was stern. Dean turned with a glower to meet the elder man's accusing stare.

"Bobby. I'm fine." _Or I will be once Sammy is…_

Without any preamble Bobby started the drill to check Dean's concussed mind -'cause clearly he was still feeling whacked if he though Bobby was going to believe his 'I'm fine' routine. Bobby tried to ignore the eye rolls that accompanied his questions.

"What's your full name?" _Eye roll number one. _"Humour me."

"Dean Winchester. Bobby rea-"

"Age?"

"God you're a pain in the ass! 28." Came the huffed reply and-oh there it was…_eye roll number two._

"Do you know where you are now?" Bobby asked, waiting for the smartass reply that was bound to accompany.

"Hell! Can we please-" Dean began in irritation before catching sight of the quelling glare from Bobby. He begrudgingly answered, "Your house."

"What day is it?"

"Saturday-see I know 'cause yesterday gave me a great big dose of that Friday feelin'!" Dean said sardonically.

Bobby swallowed his own retort, remembering that he was the adult and that any encouragement on his part would eventually lead to Dean's death coming early. He took a calming breath before broaching the subject of Gordon's remains.

"Crap! I thought you took care of that!" Dean shouted, running a hand through his short, scruffy hair in agitation. He ignored the fresh wave of pain that reared within him.

"I needed to stay and wake you to check on your concussion. You want me to go finish it now or…"

"I'll do it." Dean replied, eyes shifting to settle once again on Sam's slumbering form. He looked far too still…fragile…

"I'll do it." He repeated, voice hard. He wanted to finish off the bastard for his brother once and for all. Dean shoved to his feet, listing slightly as the world swirled before him. Another surge of pain pulsed through him and Bobby's voice drifted over him again.

"Dean? What's wrong?" _Huh, There's that telephone quality again…soo not good._

A steadying hand found its way onto his shoulder and Dean turned to find Bobby's eyes boring into him, almost angrily. "You're not going anywhere! Sit down." Bobby ordered, shoving at his torso.

Dean gasped out, "No! Bobby I have to do this. I have to make it right…for Sam." _Please don't make me use the puppy eyes again…talk about degrading._

"Fine, but you're not going alone." Bobby relented.

"What about Sam?!" Dean protested stubbornly, "We can't leave him. What if-"

"He _can_ use a cell phone yes? Besides Wandell is still here. She can keep an eye on him." the older man reasoned.

"Oh yeah 'cause that's reassuring!" Dean snorted. _What if she really does want revenge on Sam for her dad? _"Where the hell is she?"

"She's getting cleaned up. Dean she's pretty cut up about what she did because of Meg. I really don't think you need to worry about her. Of all people I think _she_ will understand that Steve dying wasn't Sam's fault."

Dean cocked a brow in consideration, mouth pulled into a half frown.

"Alright, lets go." he agreed, snagging the keys to the Impala from the coffee table. The jingling seemed to stir Sam because his husky voice mumbled out for Dean.

"Hey, I'm right here Sammy." He tried to stop the relieved lump in his throat getting any larger as he smiled down at him. "Good to see you awake kiddo. How ya feeling?"

"Like I went three rounds with a demon" Sam replied wryly. Dean snorted.

"Listen man, I need to go clear a few things up-"

"Gordon?" Sam interrupted, a vulnerable yet hopeful look in his suddenly huge eyes making him look far younger than his 23 years.

Dean nodded solemnly and Sam sagged in relief. He closed his eyes briefly opening them when his brother's concerned voice permeated the silence.

"You gonna be okay for a while?"

Sam gave a small smile in response, "Yeah man…I _can_ use a cell phone…"

Dean's eyes narrowed in suspicion before he decided that they had been spending far too much time at Bobby's lately. "Bitch" He muttered, ruffling Sam's hair affectionately.

"Jerk." And with that Sam closed his eyes wearily, a small smiled tugging at the corners of his lips as he realised Dean had long ago stopped ruffling his hair because it was apparently too much emotion for a Winchester. He was glad that had changed.

Bobby stood expectantly by the front door waiting for Dean as he spoke to his brother. He had already spoken to Wandell earlier about having things to take care of later so she wouldn't be surprised to find only Sam in the house. Heavy treads signalled Dean's presence and Bobby stepped out onto the porch, flicking his collar up against the rain relentlessly splashing from the sky.

The door was closed with a soft _click _and the house was once again silent save for the _pitter-patter _of rain against the windows as the two men jogged to the Impala.

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Sooo there's some Hurt!Dean to come which will inevitably lead to Worried!Sam and...you gte the picture! Hope you guys are enjoying:)


	14. Chapter 14

hello all! sorry about the rather longer than usual delay between post-I was away camping for a few days and have been trying to write this chapter since I got back. Hopefully the wait will not have left you too disappointed.

_**Chapter 14**_

The rain was still lashing the ground in droves as the Impala pulled over beside the dilapidated ruins, an occasional bolt of lightning renting the darkness with a thunderous roar. Dean shuddered as he remembered the collapsing roof raining down on them in a smothering blanket of ash and dust. He killed the engine, glanced over at Bobby and proceeded to head for the trunk.

Drenched within seconds he tried to ignore the water trailing icy lines down his back and neck, the fiery pain burning him from the inside, the guilt.

A surreptitious glance at his side told him that something was very wrong; a fine tracery of deep bruising ran the length of his muscled chest, disappearing behind the bandages to appear again beside his stomach. He was beginning to wonder if he had broken a rib and that he and Bobby had missed it. But that didn't matter now. Not when he had a job to do; protect Sammy.

Can of gas in hand and shovel in the other he wandered over to Bobby. The seasoned hunter nodded grimly at the ground and Dean caught his first glimpse of the deceased Gordon Walker. Hardened though he was to sights of gore Dean had to recoil slightly at the sight that greeted him; Gordon's head was partially split open with a huge rusted nail jutting out of one side, blood pooled beside him on the watery ground, seeping into the mud, matting into his beard and hair, and his opaque eyes stared up at the stormy heavens as if in supplication. The rest of his body was still covered in splinters of wood and roof. Disgusting as it was Dean couldn't help but find it no less than the sick bastard deserved.

Dean sensed Bobby's eyes on him, observing his reactions but the young hunter's face was void of any emotion till he gave a weary sigh and turned away for a moment, his eyes reflecting his relief. Bobby gave his shoulder a sturdy clap and Dean grimaced at the pain that ground through him reminding him that the last thing he needed right now was to dig a grave. His jaw clenched in an effort to maintain control and stop the groan that begged for release.

Wordlessly the shovel was removed from his hand.

"What the-" Dean began.

Bobby held up a hand in protest, eyebrows disappearing under his dripping cap.

"You look ready to keel over Dean so if you think I'm gonna let you you're wrong. What do you think Sam would do if you came back in less than one piece?!"

"He'd be pissed, might yell a little…alright a lot. Could ya just shut up and help here?" Dean groused, hands flapping in frustration.

Bobby took one look at the steely glint in Dean's eyes and saw that there was no use arguing; he'd seen the same stubborn, wilful drive shine from John's eyes too many times to know that once a Winchester was set on something, he didn't back down. And Dean was set on this.

A long suffering sigh blew out of his lips as he began hauling the remaining debris off of Gordon, steadfastly ignoring the puffs of pain filled air released every time Dean bent over. To mention it would simply start them on the same argument they had just resolved and Bobby decided he was too old to bitch at Dean when he wouldn't listen anyway. That was Sam's job and he wished the kid was here to talk sense into his older brother.

-----------------------------------------

"_Sammy, that wasn't very nice. I'm only trying to do what's best for you," Meg chastised, her expression darkening as she continued, "Maybe it will help if I provide a little…persuasion…"_

_Sam's face fell in horror as he saw Dean crumple to the floor, his face a mask of pain as he clutched his chest, silent screams trapped inside his shaking body._

"_Dean! Dean! Stop it!" Sam cried helplessly._

_Dean turned beseeching eyes to him as blood trickled over his full lips Sam's face paled as old memories assaulted him._

…_**Dad! Don't you let It kill me!…**_

_Sam blinked back the tears clouding his vision owlishly, stunned to immobility until his brother's broken voice whispered to him, "Sammy!" The plea there did not go unheard._

…_**Sammy! Don't you let It kill me!…**_

"NO!" Sam screamed out, sitting up before he could stop himself. He gasped in pain, clutching at the bullet wound on his side with a trembling hand, the other reaching up to wipe the sweaty hair from his eyes.

_Just a dream…Dean's fine…it was just a dream…_

Sam tried to reassure himself but a second voice in his head reminded him that it wasn't merely a bad dream: Dean really had been almost killed because of _him -_again.

_He's going to die because of __**me… **__To save __**me. ..**__Gordon and Meg wanted__me__and that almost got Dean killed! Oh God, this was all my fault…it should have been me. It __**was**__ me…_

Tears of pain mingled with the sweat on Sam's face unnoticed as he attempted to get control of himself. Every time his breath hitched it speared through his side like a sharpened blade.

"Are you alright?" A tentative voice said from behind him. Sam tried to turn to see who it was but only succeeded in causing himself further pain.

"Oh God!" he groaned, wheezing slightly as he curled in on himself.

"Sam?" There was that small tentative voice again, familiar yet different. _Wandell…_

Sam glanced up to meet the young woman's concerned blue-eyed gaze before scrunching his own eyes closed in pain. He couldn't find the energy to answer her and control his laboured breaths simultaneously so gave a curt nod.

A sceptical snort sounded beside him and he opened his eyes again to glare at Wandell. She shrank back slightly.

_She's__**scared **__of me…can't say I blame her, _He thought, remembering his display of power earlier to save Dean, remembering the video tape of him beating her father to death…

"Sorry." Sam said suddenly, his voice a small whisper. Wandell's eyebrows shot up in incredulity.

She crouched down before him, observing him, taking in the pallor of his clammy skin, the brightness in his brown eyes. Sam squirmed, uncomfortable with her scrutiny, wishing she would say something-or just blink!- when she rose and walked off. Seconds later she was back, again on her knees beside him, a glass of water and a bottle of pills held in her outstretched hands.

"Here." she said softly. Sam gave a small smile as he accepted the meds, popped a few in his mouth and gulped down the water.

"Thanks" he said, scrubbing a hand awkwardly through his hair as she took his empty glass. She nodded and a heavy silence settled between them.

_Drip…drip…drip…drip…_

The turmoil within the youngest Winchester cancelled out the blanketing silence in Bobby's room, the thoughts running round his head painful, accusing… He had killed her father and here she was helping him, looking after him. He had killed her father, a _fellow hunter_, and had brought Meg into her life…Gordon had been right all along, he was a killer…look at what he had done to Jake, Steve…All of it-Jess, his Mom, his father's shitty life, his brother's shitty life, his impending death, it was all his fault! How many more families would have to suffer because of him. Because of his abilities.

"I don't even want them!" he sighed.

"Don't want what?" Wandell asked. Sam's head shot up as he realised he had spoken aloud. He stammered, looking for the right words. He shook his head tiredly.

"I-I-eh…nothing. I'm sorry. You don't have to stay any more by the way. I'm alright. Thanks." Sam gave a tight smile.

"I'm sorry too" Wandell replied, her voice soft. Sam glanced up at her, confusion clear on his open face. Wandell could have smiled at his innocent lack of understanding had it not been so sad. She explained, "For, you know hurting you…I just couldn't stop it, it was horrible!"

"It wasn't your fault. You were possessed".

"So were you…" She pointed out with a tiny smile, "…I understand that now…and I don't blame you for my father." She trailed off, not looking at the young man before her, instead focussed on the red welt on her arm; a broken binding link. A shudder ran through her as a small voice washed over her.

"Thank you." Sam said quietly, a surge of relief flooding him, releasing a weighty burden from his drooping shoulders. He glanced up at Wandell, saw the tears standing out unshed in her eyes despite the fall of red hair that obscured some of her face from view, and continued with gentle understanding, "That doesn't mean I'm not sorry for what happened. I know what it's like to-to lose a father."

Wandell met his compassionate gaze and a flicker of understanding passed between them; they had both after all been possessed by Meg, had both lost a father because of the same family of demons. He saw her take a shaky breath to compose herself and she nodded once.

Sam was suddenly aware that he needed to get some air, that he needed to reign in his own emotions before thoughts became too painful-the bathroom would be a good sanctuary for a moment of peace. He really wanted to wash his face too. He excused himself and stood slowly, allowing the room time to stop spinning, pushing down the almost nauseous feeling creeping over him. Wandell gave an uncomfortable cough and Sam realised, rather belatedly and with no little mortification, that Dean had obviously divested him of all wet clothes save his boxers. He tugged his blanket round his muscled frame more firmly, face burning as he gave an indistinct mumble and shuffled off hastily.

Wandell watched him slope off with a small smile of amusement playing on her delicate features, her own face, she was sure, was burning to match the colour of her tresses. _That _had been a little awkward.

Several minutes later the young Winchester emerged from the bathroom feeling slightly cleaner. He chose not to look at Wandell, not sure he was quite over his embarrassment just yet. He snorted to himself; if Dean were here he would call him a prude. Speaking of which…why wasn't Dean back yet?

_4:36_

"Dammit!" Sam breathed.

"What is it?" Wandell asked anxiously.

"They should be back by now…" Sam reached for his phone and hit the speed dial for Dean's cell. He cursed again when he got voicemail. _There's no way he wouldn't answer his phone unless something's wrong…he'd think I was in trouble and answer it straight away…shit! Dean…_

Bobby's phone was next and Sam actually sank onto the sofa in relief as the familiar gruff growl answered.

"Sam? You alright?"

"Yeah Bobby I'm good. Everything okay?" Sam asked. Silence met his ears. "Bobby? Tell me!" he demanded urgently.

"Look Sam we'll back in five. I'll talk to you then." Bobby evaded him and the metallic whining drone of the receiver sounded. _Not good not good!_

Wandell took one look at Sam's ashen face before seating herself next to him, a hand on his knee. "What's wrong?" the genuine concern in her voice was evident.

Large brown eyes turned to her helplessly as Sam shrugged, "I don't know…"

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You will get to find out what happened to Dean in the next chapter! I know I have returned to angsty stuff again so sorry-I did try to lighten the chapter up a bit at the end so I hope it wasn't too dour for you all ;)Not that I don't know you all love the angst! Brotherly banter on the way shortly I think...


	15. Chapter 15

Just wanted to thank you all again for reviewing cause it really does make my day! lol anyhoo here's the next update!

_**Chapter 15**_

Dean wiped a trembling hand on his brow, the sweat there mingling with the rainwater rolling over his face. He took a shaky breath, pushing down his pain to get the job done. He couldn't afford to waste time; what if Gordon came back to finish off what he had started? No, Dean couldn't subject Sam to that again, not while he could prevent it. He kept up a mantra of thoughts in his head to keep himself going, he hummed song after song, focussing only on the steady beats in his head to match them to the movement of the shovel pounding down on the soft ground.

To his left the older hunter pounded away at the ground with his own shovel, his limbs working as feverishly as Dean's. He too wanted to be rid of Gordon once and for all.

The rain began to lessen and though the sky remained dark from heavy clouds occasional shafts of dawn light filtered down from the sky to cast the ground in a deep pink, as if mirroring the bloody puddle trailing around Gordon's body.

Dean tried to ignore the macabre thoughts swirling in his head but he couldn't push back the memories that haunted him. Voices whispered to him in the dying wind, the past plaguing his present with doubt and pain.

…_your brother's fare game…how do you know that what you brought back was 100 pure Sam?…what he did to Jake, that was pretty cold…he's back in the game…_

Shaking himself Dean ignored the lingering doubts; Sam wasn't evil! He was…well Sam…and his brother could never be evil-Jake had deserved what he'd got. The YED had just been trying to mess with him-Sam was fine, he was all Sam. He had even stopped Dean taking out Wandell-no way that was evil. _But what if that's because he didn't want you to get rid of Meg? What if he really had been about to go lead her war?_

Dean forced the heel of his hand into his eyes trying to shut out the voices, the pain…it was too much!

…_if you can't save him you have to kill him…_

"No!" Dean breathed angrily. Suddenly it was too hard to breath and his knees were buckling as his vision wavered. A hand shot out to catch him before he crumpled forward into the shallow grave.

"Shit!" Bobby hissed anxiously. Dean lifted his head wearily to look the older man in the eye, a weak, apologetic grin plastered on his face. "Dammit Dean you can barely stand!"

"I'll be alright." Dean shrugged, pulling to his feet unsteadily. A shiver found its way up his spine.

Bobby mirrored his movement.

Their eyes met, twin horror reflected in both sets.

Gordon was back.

---------------------------------

Bobby hastily upended a carton of salt over the body resting at his feet, Dean muttering a stream of curses as he worked, dousing the body in gas. His carton empty Bobby flicked the safety off his gun, brows furrowed in concentration as he willed the matches Dean was fumbling with to light.

"Waterproof my ass…" he groused with a shake of his head.

Suddenly it wasn't quite as cold and Bobby's hunter senses were left coming up blank. Dean looked up from the match held in his hand, raw fear in his eyes as they sought out Bobby's own.

-----------------------------------

_4.03_

Back at the old hunter's house a chill stirred a sleeping Sam Winchester as a nearby lamp fluttered. Darkness descended as the power cut out to resume only moments later.

-----------------------------------

"Sam!" he breathed, standing so suddenly he saw stars. Dean didn't even seem to realise what he was doing until he reached the Impala.

"What are you doing?!" Bobby shouted. Dean looked over his shoulder with his reply, "I gotta save Sam-I gotta make sure he's okay."

Bobby quickly noted the ashen shade of Dean's normally tanned complexion, the hazy sheen of his normally bright eyes, and became aware that he wasn't thinking straight at all. There was no way Dean would suggest leaving without finishing this-especially as this was the only way to protect his brother.

"Dean he's fine-every inch of the house is covered in protective charms. You know that! It's us I'm worried about. Now get your ass over here and finish this!" Bobby growled, asserting as much authority as he could. He saw the realisation on Dean's face and the young hunter seemed to recollect himself.

"Yeah, right. I eh-" He stammered in embarrassment as he made his way back to Bobby's side. Bobby remained quiet. There was no time for explanations and he already knew that Dean was hurting worse than he had let on which would explain his clouded judgement. He wouldn't even bring it up-he'd been there before himself…

An icy blast of wind curled around Dean like a twisted caress and he was knocked off his feet before he even registered what was going on.

_I can't breath! _It was the only lucid thought amidst as sea of confusion; _Sam…evil…Gordon…I can't breath!_

He gagged, hand fumbling for the matches strewn over the ground. A shot went off, ringing in his ears as heaving lungs began to function again, burning in their need for oxygen.

"Dean!" Bobby's warning rang out.

The young Winchester forced to his feet, despite the screaming pain flaring in his side, to see Bobby fire off a succession of shots as he backed away from Gordon's body. Dean ran to the body and ferociously struck a match. This time it stayed lit and he dropped it onto Gordon's remains.

Flames shot up over the body, devouring it hungrily, rising up to meet the morning rays of sunshine like reaching arms.

Dean backed off, an arm thrown over his eyes to shield them, the other wrapped firmly round his waist. Bobby lowered his gun with a relieved sigh, his eyes fixed to the firey trail leaping over Gordon's body, charring it to ash and dust.

The flames reared larger as Dean threw some gas over the remains of the building.

"Not taking any chances this time." He said in answer to Bobby's cocked brow. The older man nodded his approval and put their supplies back in the Impala. As he turned back Dean came to stand next to him, arms folded across his chest as he leant against the hood of his beloved car. Bobby seated himself next to Dean and they silently watched the ruined garage go up in flames, small explosions feeding the flames. By the time the fire had quenched itself there was nothing left.

Gordon was gone; no more than dust in the wind.

The dizzying relief had Dean sliding from the hood of the Impala. "It's over…" he whispered, ignoring the small voice in his head that reminded him it would never be truly over; not until he found out how to kill Meg too.

His phone rang out,. As he moved to answer it, seeing Sam's name flashing on the ID, he stumbled over a rock and crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap, his head striking the door of the Impala on the way down.

Bobby hurried to Dean's side to find that he was out cold having just worsened his concussion. He shook his head at the Winchester luck and his own phone sang out loudly into the early morning silence.

"Sam? You alright?" Bobby asked quickly, concern lacing his words.

"Yeah Bobby I'm good. Everything okay?" Sam asked, suspiciously. _Damn psychic… _

"Bobby tell me!"

Bobby closed his eyes against the imploring quality to the youngest Winchester's voice, knowing that if he could see him right now he would be staring at him with huge, wide eyes.

"Look Sam we'll back in five. I'll talk to you then." Bobby replied tersely. He needed to hurry back and check Dean out and Sam's questions weren't helping. He hung up without waiting for a response, feeling like an old boot as he imagined the horrors Sam's wild imagine would be conjuring at this very moment. He hated keeping the kid in the dark but he needed to focus on getting Dean to safety.

He pulled Dean's body into the back of the Impala, cursing at the amount of food Dean managed to pack away. He ignored the groans that accompanied the movement and slammed the door, hurrying to the driver's side and keying the ignition. The engine sprang to life, thrumming loudly beneath him even as Kansas' Dust in the Wind opened quietly from the radio.

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As always thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed it :)


	16. Chapter 16

Hey sorry about the delay this chapter wasn't really working for me (lol and I just HAD to watch the rugby world cup too)

_**Chapter 16**_

Sam was restless. His knees jumped up, down, up, down, up again in an anxious tremor that wracked through his tall frame. He sat biting on his nails in worry; Bobby had sounded worried over the phone-he was a veteran hunter, what could possibly have worried him?! What could have happened…?

Except Sam knew all too well the multitude of problems that could have arisen. Looking back he remembered Dean being injured-it could have gotten worse…Dean would never have even mentioned it.

_But I should have known to check him over…he always tries to protect me, he always makes sure I'm okay-why couldn't I do the same for him?… What would I do without him?_

No, he wouldn't have to worry about that because Dean would be alright like he always was. He _had_ to be. Sam couldn't function without Dean-he needed him. Period.

Sam chewed on his rapidly diminishing nails, his jaw muscles jumping in a furious rhythm as his guilt ate at him from the inside out, stomach churning in a vicious reminder of what he _should_ have done, what he _should_ have been…He was so caught up in his self loathing that he never considered how irrational he was being; all he saw was failure. He had been caught by Gordon, had brought the evil hunter's attention to them because of his abilities _twice, _he had put Dean in danger to save him again. And for what? Why did he deserve life more than Dean? The fact was he didn't, never had, never would. He needed to pay Dean back for everything…

He shook his head, vowing not to let himself get sucked into the endless sea of guilt threatening to engulf him. He couldn't think about all that right now; that argument had only served to help the past days' events play out; what he needed to do was focus on making sure Dean was okay.

"I'm sure everything's fine Sam…" Wandell said from beside him, trying heroically to keep the doubt from her own voice.

Sam shook his head, expelling a sharp blast of air from his nose. _If everything was okay Bobby wouldn't have hung up on me…he would have answered my question…_

"No something's not right. What time is it?" he asked suddenly. _They've been gone for too long…_

"Oh I dunno, the power went out about an hour ago but I think that was 4:00 so…what the hell are you doing? Sit down!" Wandell cried springing to her feet as Sam rapidly shot to his wavering legs. His blurring vision cleared and settled on the digital clock on Bobby's fridge in the next room.

_00:00...00:00...00:00..._

The flashing numbers mocked his inattention as he snatched his own watch from the short coffee table beside him. _4:55_ …Crap! A power cut could only mean one thing: Gordon had come back. That would certainly explain why the clock in the kitchen had stopped and why his hadn't-Gordon wouldn't have been able to get inside the house with all its protections but would still have interfered with the electrics of the house…

He must have gone back to his body. And Dean.

As the magnitude of that realisation hit Sam he suddenly felt like he was drowning in despair and horror, floundering in a lost sea without his anchor. For the second time that night he was unable to fight off the darkness that pressed down on him, enshrouding him. His vision tunnelled, still locked dazedly on the flashing clock in the kitchen.

Wandell managed to half catch Sam as he staggered backwards in shock, struggling to support his height and weight with her own small frame. He sank towards the floor, lips parted with the shock of his secret discovery. How she wished she knew what was happening! Before she was able to stop herself she was asking him.

The young hunter swung his head to meet her gaze, his own haunted by a new kind of pain as he dutifully answered her, his tone almost mechanical.

"Gordon's spirit came back…" Wandell couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her as she clutched at her throat, eyes casting around furtively as she pulled Sam's blanket up from the floor to replace it over his shivering shoulders.

"No, I have to go to him…" Sam shoved upright stubbornly, blanket once again forgotten in a heap by his feet. He swivelled on the spot, rotating several times, managing to make himself feel even dizzier than he had thought possible only a moment before. "Where are they?" he muttered, eyes picking through the debris littered all over the flooring.

"Where's what? Sam what are you doing? This is insane!" Wandell stated emphatically, arms flung wide in exasperation.

"My clothes." Sam said, ignoring her other remarks.

"They're right there-what, hey stop!"

Sam had already pulled on his damp jeans and was now wrestling a tattered shirt over his chest, notably wincing as he pulled on his new stitches. He shook his head adamantly at her outburst. He had to see his brother. He had to make sure he was okay!

"But you're hurt! You can barely walk! Sam! God this is just freakin' great!" she yelled, ending up muttering to herself as she hurriedly followed the tall Winchester's broad back in its retreat from the room. He grabbed a gun from a side table on his way to the door before stepping out into the dewy morning.

Low sunlight glanced off the cars glittering in Bobby's junkyard, the normally dusty ground soggy from the storm's heavy rainfall. An early morning chill hung heavy in the air and Wandell pulled her sweater tighter around herself with a shake of her firey head. This couldn't be good for Sam.

Wandell squelched after him; despite her declaration Sam seemed to be managing walking just fine, in fact he was breaking into a light jog and she had to hurry to keep up with his long legs. As she caught up with him she grabbed him by the arm and spun his around to face her demanding that he go back inside.

"You don't understand-"

"You're fevered, you've been shot! You need to-"

They simultaneously stopped arguing as a low rumble drew their attention. The black Impala drew up before them, a cloud of dust billowing beneath its tires as it ground to a halt.

Sam hurried to the doors as Bobby emerged from the driver's side door. _Not good not good!_ a voice screamed; Dean never let anyone else drive unless…

"What happened? Gordon?" Sam said by way of greeting. Bobby met his wide-eyed stare with a curt nod, ducking his own eyes out of view as he moved to the back door. Pulling it open Sam peered over his shoulder and shoved the old friend aside.

"Dean! Oh man…I'm sorry…" Sam uttered, his voice no more than a sigh of regret as he took in his brother's appearance; yet another trickle of blood streaked over his white face and a large purling handprint stood out livid on his neck. He remained transfixed by the bruise until Bobby's calloused hand grabbed his arm gently.

"Sam…" He prompted.

Startled eyes stared back at him as Sam allowed himself to be pulled aside by Wandell. She led him back a few steps, whispering to him that he should wait inside, but it was evident he didn't hear her, that he wasn't listening, because he stepped forward again. He needed to be close to his sibling, he needed to help.

As Bobby struggled with Dean's dead weight Sam appeared at his side again, wordlessly tugging his older brother's arm over his own shoulder as he stooped to accommodate their height difference. Bobby mirrored the pose hastily, willing to chastise Sam for his rash actions once Dean had been checked out. The kid should have been sleeping-at the very least resting-but no! here he was putting his body through more pain. He didn't understand the self-sacrificing nature of the Winchester brothers, having witnessed this very same situation countless times in reverse.

But Sam suddenly understood Dean's need to be the one to care for his brother; he was responsible for him, he needed to feel pain to atone for his guilt. The only difference was that Sam was actually guilty of something; negligence. Dean had never been guilty of that, or anything else in his book and this was all Sam's fault so he gritted his teeth and hurried into the front room as fast as his screaming wound would allow.

Wandell trailed after the three hunters feeling utterly useless. She had tried to offer what help she could with Sam's brother but she couldn't manage his weight and had virtually no medical training whatsoever apart from normal first aid skills. What could she do? Hadn't she done enough already…?

She hurried ahead to open the door to at least make something easier, observing the three men as they closed in on the house: the eldest, Bobby Singer, apparently knew the two brothers well, he interacted with them with ease and familiarity and had an understanding of their behaviour that only years of knowing them would have allowed-especially with Dean-when he had been awake earlier Wandell had noted how reserved, controlled and almost measured his behaviour was, how he hid his emotions behind walls as if scared to let them free; and then there was Sam, he had a shy disposition but wasn't guarded like Dean, just pensive and almost brooding yet he was obviously as fiercely protective of his brother as Dean was of him. Another thing she noticed they seemed to share was guilt. It was clear from Sam's woeful expression that he felt responsible for his brother's current condition but Wandell couldn't understand how he thought that he was and she had seen the same heavy weight of responsibility in Dean's gaze earlier and was equally puzzled by its presence.

Her musings were interrupted as they moved past her through the door and shuffled into the main room. This time Sam lifted his brother onto the sofa, biting into his lip to stop the cry of pain that was working its way up from his chest. He was literally trembling with exhaustion and exertion, a sheen of sweat coating his face, neck and body.

But he didn't even notice, let alone care, he was only concerned for Dean. The entire trip from the Impala inside and Dean hadn't even stirred and Sam almost yearned to hear a snarky comment telling him 'keep your hands to yourself', 'stop feeling me up', _anything. _He just needed to hear that voice…

"You're bleeding!" Wandell's voice echoed as if heard from afar and Sam sluggishly removed his gaze from Dean to rest on himself. Sure enough a blossoming red rose of blood seeped down from his left side, both back and front. He hadn't even felt the stitches tear…

"I'm alright" he insisted, cringing at the quivering voice that betrayed him. He really had felt fine until she had mentioned it.

"Sam, sit down and get outta my way so I can check on Dean!" Bobby said in annoyed exasperation. He was finding it hard not to be stressed having come back to find his previous patient up and injuring himself with the knowledge that his new patient would be most displeased with finding that out upon return to consciousness. Since when did he play doctor anyway…?

Sam nodded distantly at Bobby's wise words, face paling instantly as he realised he was just getting in the way and he became suddenly light headed. A steadying hand pulled on his arm and he let himself get pushed into a chair on the far side of the room, his eyes still locked onto Dean's unnaturally still form as Wandell crouched before him to attempt some ministrations.

He hissed as she pulled his shirt from the bloody trail snaking down his side to ooze into his waistband, finding himself mesmerised by the trickling liquid seeping from the rather large hole in his side

…why did his head feel so heavy…?…and since when did he _hurt_ so bad…?

His shaggy head flopped back into the squashy chair, a huge groaning sigh of pain escaping him. Trying to ignore the stabs ripping through him, as well as the cold shivering that was taking hold despite his surely boiling blood, Sam glanced over at his brother again.

"How is he?" he slurred.

Bobby's face turned round and he was fixed with an intense stare as the older hunter cursed.

"A damn sight better than you, what were ya thinkin'?!"

Suddenly Bobby was in front of him and Wandell was forcing pills into his mouth, pressing a glass of water to his lips…when did she move? And when did Bobby…Dean?

"Bobby please…" Sam begged.

"He's gonna be okay Sam. I promise-I think he cracked a rib though and he's still out…but he's gonna be okay." The older man reassured him, nodding.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, his voice small, frightened and hopeful all at once. Bobby smiled down at his endearing plea with a nod and the young Winchester let out a sight of relief, his large eyes closing tight against the prickling sensation of tears.

As calloused fingers brushed over his side Sam sank headlong into painless oblivion after one last lancing throb pierced through his being.

Bobby sighed and shook his head as Sam succumbed to unconsciousness. He set about addressing the young hunter's wounds and returned fever.

As if sensing his brother's decline in health Dean chose that moment to return to consciousness himself, a groggy groan signalling his awareness. As predicted the first word out of his mouth was his younger brother's name.

"Sammy?" It was a harsh, dry whisper like sandpaper against grainy wood. Hazy eyes didn't find purchase on the face they wanted to see and Dean bolted upright, suddenly all awareness.

Unable to stop him from getting up Bobby simply stood back in frustration as Dean stubbornly made his weaving way to Sam's side. He checked his brother over himself before tugging Sam out of his sodden cloths yet again to wrestle on a set of sweats. Satisfied his brother was suitably taken care of he wordlessly sank onto the floor beside him.

"No-Dean you need to lie down. You're not gonna get better if you don't rest!" Bobby growled, shoving him onto the sofa and thrusting his own sweats at him. "No arguments." He said as Dean's mouth opened to protest.

The older Winchester acquiesced too quickly for Bobby to be happy; it just went to prove how much pain he was in that he had given in so quickly with only a half hearted glower showing his reluctance.

Dean struggled to get into his own sweats, declining the offer of help from the family friend. No way he was letting that happen! He pushed past the pulsing spike of pain in his ribs and with a moan sank back into the sofa, an arm over his eyes to shield them from the dim light, to hide the evidence of his pain from Bobby and Wandell. _Winchester's don't cry…well, maybe Sammy, but not me…_

He couldn't fight the tugging urge of sleep, it beckoned him with hungry fingers that refused to let go and he eventually gave in and allowed himself to drift off into oblivion…

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Not too sure if I changed POV too much in this one and it gave me a lot of grief so I hope it worked okay despite that lol! Huge thanks again!! to all my wonderful reviewers-you guys rock!


	17. Chapter 17

Hey all-sorry about the really long delay in updating this one, I've been really busy this week getting stuff ready for uni and I've only just had the chance to write this bit. Thanks for being so patient about it! And a massive thankyou to my reviewers! It's the reviews that really spurred me on to write so thanks for that :)

_**Chapter 17**_

Oblivion…a state of being utterly forgotten…a state of forgetting everything…

What had he forgotten? Who was he? What was he? Dead or alive? Maybe this was death, maybe death was oblivion…maybe he had been forgotten, after all he had forgot…

And yet he was sure he had been here before, perhaps on the cusp of death, surrounded by it, hunted by it. Hunting…

Flashes of memories streamed together like a movie played on fast forward and Dean shot upright, startlingly awake. Everything came back to him in crystal clarity as he scanned the front room of Bobby's house; the older hunter had fallen asleep in a chair and it was dark outside…he must have slept through the day. His gaze came to rest on his slumbering sibling and a sigh escaped his lips as he realised that Sam was safe. Grinding his teeth Dean rose and shuffled to his brother's side, a hand outstretched and checking his fever before he even sat down. Sweat beaded over his face and a glow of warmth seeped from his pale skin. Dean's brow furrowed in worry, he really didn't want to have to go to hospital, he hated hospitals…too many bad memories…

_If you can't save him, kill him…you're not the first soldier I've plucked from the battlefield…it's your time…_

Dean shook his head fervently to dispel the thoughts. He had to concentrate. A trembling hand scrubbed across his bleary eyes and Dean winced silently as he pulled on his ribs despite their tight binding. They were definitely gonna have to take it easy for a while. Dean wouldn't jeopardise Sam's recovery and if that meant staying in one place and allowing himself to heal too, then so be it.

"Hey Sammy" Dean whispered past the lump in his throat. _God, I hate seeing him like this, _"Sam? I need you to wake up for a minute okay? Sam? That's it"

A soft, almost cooing voice, niggled its way into Sam's subconscious, rousing him from his tormented dreams and a feeling of relief flooded him: Dean had saved him again…

He uttered the name always on his lips, his voice a ragged rasp to its normally gentile tone yet even so the sound of his voice brought a small smile to his brother's exhausted face.

"Hey, how ya feelin'?" Dean asked, his own voice clear and strong despite the use of the soft tone reserved only for use on Sam.

Sam gave a tiny smile that had the entire room light up for Dean; if he could smile he wasn't in that much pain, he would be okay! Dean could tell with Sam; it was always in the eyes. Currently those chocolatey pools stared up at him shining with gratitude and love, they held no accusation and Dean's eyebrows pinched over the bridge of his nose. As if hearing his brother's thoughts Sam started on a conversation he had been needing to broach since the previous day.

"None of this is your fault Dean and…and I want to say sorry and thanks, for being there."

"What are you talking about. Sorry for what Sam? I don't-" Dean shook his head to convey his lack of understanding but the strange look in his brother's eyes told him everything he needed to know and comprehension dawned slowly on his face. "Sam-"

Cutting him off before he could begin Sam explained, "Look Dean, this would never have happened if it wasn't for me-my abilities-and I don't want you blaming yourself. Hear me out! I'm sorry for fighting with you-"

"Already forgiven and forgotten Sammy-" Dean said with a smile that was quickly removed from his visage as Sam continued unheedingly.

"And I'm sorry for dragging you into this and I'm sorry that you have to get stuck with me as a brother…sorry for everything." Sam whispered brokenly, staring everywhere but at Dean.

He sat aghast at his little brother, horrified shock etched over every line on his young face. "Ho-how can you say that?" He eventually stuttered, "Sam!" he said sharply. Haunted eyes turned on him, tears standing out on an already damp face, and Dean felt another bit of his heart ripped out. Did Sam think he didn't want him as a brother because he blamed him for everything? Because of his abilities? Another sorry was muttered and Dean lifted his head and met Sam's watery gaze with one of his own.

"Don't you _ever_ think that I blame you for any of this. It was that evil yellow-eyed sonofabitch who did this to our family not you! And I don't care about your abilities, they don't change you." Dean mouthed emphatically, a fond smile playing over his weary features as he continued gently, "You're still my brother, my not-so-little geek brother…and I wouldn't have it any other way. You hear me?"

"Yeah" came the husky reply.

"No, I know you're not deaf. Do you _hear_ me Sam?" A smiling nod amidst tears was his response and Dean felt his own mouth twitch in response.

"I mean who else can I call bitch without them taking it the wrong way?" he asked with a helpless shrug.

Sam snorted at Dean's all too obvious need to get their conversation steered back into the vicinity of normality…for them at any rate. "Not to mention the obsession with your car, jerk."

"Hey, she's a classic Sammy and I know you love her every bit as much as I do" Dean admonished with a finger wag.

"Yeah," Sam conceded with a dip of his head. "Pity about the music you play in her." He laughed at the outraged look on his brother's face as he accepted some pills and water.

"Just all that hair around your ears stopping you from appreciating it Sammy" Dean replied, a brow cocked in puzzlement as Sam upended the pill bottle and deposited two onto his palm. His eyebrows shot up in amusement as he realised Sam wanted him to have them.

Just as he was about to refuse them Sam gave a look that said 'I might be hurt but I'll hurt you if you don't take these.' With a huffed sigh and secret smile Dean downed the remaining water and pills. Things were gonna be okay.

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	18. Chapter 18

Hey everyone. Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews throughout this story. You guys really inspired me and gave me the drive to keep writing cause this story was gonna be a lot shorter but I'm immensly glad you enjoyed it so much you wanted to see more cause I had a blast writing it for you all! But at last it's finished now-so thanks for waiting so patitenly for the updates (I've been at uni this week so I was a bit too busy) and I hope you're not disappointed with the ending. Thanks again :)

_**Chapter 18**_

Almost a week had passed since Sam had been taken by Gordon; a week of painful recovery and explanations and apologies; a week that was thoroughly too long for Dean Winchester. He wanted back on the road to eat up mile after mile of dust, a thrumming rumble beneath him and his kid brother beside him riding shotgun, complaining about the music. He wanted things to be they were they were. He wanted normal. Admittedly normal for a Winchester didn't really offer much comfort but he would take his chances…he had to; he didn't have all that much time left. Already Sam had started worrying about his deal with the crossroads demon claiming, rather transparently, that he couldn't do much else with his time because of his healing wounds. Dean too was still recovering but he'd never been one to let that stop him before now. Moreover he and Sam had been staying with Bobby for almost a month now and he really needed some space.

Sam had noticed Dean getting more and more antsy as the days passed but had steadfastly feigned ignorance. Now, it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore as Dean had actually started whining. _Whining_! Sam shook his head as yet more mumbled cursing erupted from behind the fridge door.

"…Stupid pansy-assed excuse for food… 'it's healthy Dean'…bull! Anything _green_ can't be good for you…"

Sam actually found himself smiling in fond exasperation at the totally Dean-like rant, glad to hear the customary bitching about food as it meant Dean was recovering just fine. He hastily tried to conceal his amusement as Dean's head poked round the corner as if sensing his brother's secret sniggering.

Dean's eyes rested shrewdly on Sam, taking in the papers strewn over the kitchen table, the laptop ever present before him, a huge sigh escaping him as the rest of his body emerged from behind the huge fridge. He scowled at Sam as he sat down, oozing his big-brother authority. _Oh God, he knows I'm lookin' for stuff about the deal…_

Sam merely smirked at him, his own eyes travelling to rest on the bag of peanut M&M's fastened securely to his brother's hand.

"You do realise," he began with no little amusement in his voice, "That M&M's aren't a substitute for actual food Dean? Even if they are _green_." He raised his eyebrows teasingly.

Dean shot him a scathing look that caused him to snort in laughter as his attention drifted inexorably back to his laptop screen. Moments later it was his turn to glower at Dean as an M&M made its way onto his lap.

"Real mature Dean, you mind?" He asked turning yet again to his notes.

Dean looked up at the ceiling as if considering Sam's question before he shrugged, "Not really." Another M&M pelted him squarely between the eyes and Dean gave a hoot of laughter, "Scooore!"

"Dean-" Sam growled in warning, cut of as yet another M&M was launched at him from beyond the eerie blue-white glow of the laptop screen. "Goddammit Dean!" he sighed angrily, plucking the offending item from his unruly hair to return it to his brother rather forcefully. Dean merely opened his mouth to catch the projectile candy. A smug smirk lazed over his face as he munched happily.

"You try Sammy. Come on, it's easy" So saying he carefully aimed one at his semi-scowling semi-amused sibling who deftly caught the air born piece of candy in a large fist before stuffing it in his mouth defiantly.

"Cheat." Dean grumbled.

"Jerk" Sam mumbled absently, the customary 'bitch' following instantly.

"Sam can you please stop for a second and actually talk to me here?!" Dean burst out a few minutes later, thoroughly sick and tired of the light tap-tap-tapping of his brother's long fingers. Sam didn't even look up to shake his head. "Please!"

"No…"

"For me?" Dean asked softly.

"Hell! I _am_ doing this for you! You could try to be grateful you know, thankful that someone gives a damn, could even try and help a little-maybe even just care! I mean would it kill you?!" Sam shouted, slamming his laptop closed in a sudden flash of anger. The colour drained from his already-pale face as he realised what he had just said and he swayed as the world lurched precariously around him.

_Real smooth Sam…'would it kill you?' god what an idiot! How can I be so insensitive…!_

"Actually yeah it would," Dean's deep voice broke through his hazy guilt and he snapped open his eyes to stare at his older brother with a mix of anger, terror and pained confusion.

"I can't look at anything to do with the deal Sam…" Dean said slowly, his reluctance to continue obvious as his eyes were averted to his lap.

"Why not? Don't you _want_ to live Dean? You can't just accept this! You can't, it's not you…" Sam whispered softly.

"I have to accept it Sammy, and…you have to too."

"What! No, no way! I'm not gonna give up on you. Not now, not ever!" _How can he be saying this?! How can he give up like this? How can he leave me…?_

Dean closed his eyes briefly at Sam's emphatic statement, a bittersweet cold-warmth stealing through his body before he composed himself and his face became hard.

"You have to Sammy…" his composure crumbled at the distraught look on his kid brother's face.

"Dean I can't…I need you man-"

"Please…she'll take you back if I-"

Simultaneously the Winchester brothers trailed off shaking their heads. Dean's eyes were clamped shut against the moisture threatening there whereas Sam's were wide with revelation and understanding.

"You mean I'll die if you help me?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah." Dean confirmed sadly, glancing up at Sam to see a singular tear roll over his brother's sombre visage, reading the anguish in his face with ease, the thoughts behind those tears. _I'll die if you don't._ "Sammy…I can't do it, you have to understand that," Dean pleaded.

"I do," Sam sniffed, a ghost of an ironic smile tugging at his frowning lips.

Sam's voice from another time and place swam around hauntingly in Dean's head_…You're my brother and I'd die for you…I'd do anything for you…_He really did understand that. And that's what scared Dean the most: that Sam would do something stupid to save him.

"Listen Sam," Dean began gently clearing his throat to try and muster as much authority into his tone as possible, "I don't want you to do something stupid to get me out of this-"

"Like you did for me you mean?" Sam interrupted.

"That was different" Dean declared defensively to his brother's shaking head.

"No it wasn't Dean. If I don't find a way outta this for you…then it's over for us both. I'm gonna go out fighting for us both if you can't do it for you." Sam said with passionate conviction, eyes now dry but bright.

Dean surveyed his younger brother, heart breaking with painful happiness that Sam cared that much about him and breaking even more that if Sam couldn't get him out of this deal then his own would have been in vain. But looking at him sitting there, jaw jutting in typical Winchester stubbornness, Dean knew he couldn't sway his brother from his decision. In fact, he realised, he didn't want to; he knew the pain of trying to go on without his brother and he didn't want Sam to face that. He wasn't really sure Sam could. He'd had so much already to deal with…too much. But letting Sam die-especially for him- was out of the question so he would just have to figure this out for them both.

"Well college boy you'd better figure something out then 'cause, let me tell ya, Hell will be nothing compared to what I do to you if this all goes South." Dean said ominously.

Sam actually allowed himself a small smile at that as he nodded, "Yeah. I hear ya."

Deciding they were straying dangerously close to another 'moment' Dean stood up to leave. Sam abruptly mimicked his movement and Dean raised a speculative eyebrow in his direction seeing the papers folded away into Sam's messenger bag, the laptop into its case.

Sam shrugged awkwardly, prodding at his eye sockets, "If we only have a year left I wanna enjoy some of it without going square-eyed. You wanna go for a drive?"

"Dude, what are we sixty?" Dean snorted, full lips pulled into a sneer of disgust.

"Well you've been acting like a bored five year old all week so I thought maybe we should get going?"

Ignoring the age comment Dean asked, "You got us a gig?"

"Yah 'cause we're ready for that right now," Sam gave a wry smile even as he produced a bottle of aspirin and swallowed two, "No I was more thinking' of a vacation, actually get some R n R for a change. You know…we never did get to see the Grand Canyon."

"You've never been to the Grand Canyon?" came Wandell's incredulous voice as she entered via the front room with Bobby at her side, a gleam in his eyes as he asked in mock offence, "You boys that sick o' me already?"

"Actually…" Dean grinned roguishly, flashing a wink in Wandell's direction. She never noticed as she crossed the room to Sam holding out a sheet of parchmenty paper. Dean's gaze followed her with curiosity, watching the subsequent interaction between them with keen interest. It was obviously something about the deal…

Sam accepted the ancient page and opened it out seeing some information on crossroads demons and their deals. Grateful eyes locked onto Wandell's as he stammered an earnest yet disbelieving thank you.

"Bobby's been showing me some books in his totally-huge collection and we came across this…don't mention it." She shrugged with a smile.

Sam's gaze drifted to the old family friend in silent thanks; Bobby knew how much this meant to him, what it could mean for Dean…Eyes returning to Wandell he nodded once more as she perched herself on the table beside him.

"You guys will love the Grand Canyon. It's awesome." She stated grinning as she pushed a lock of red hair behind her ear.

Sam returned his attention to Dean, not understanding the smirk his brother gave him. He shook his head almost imperceptibly and continued as if he hadn't noticed, "What do you think? You wanna go?"

Dean's smirk morphed into a real smile, "Yeah, why not." The time off was worth it just to see the broad grin break across Sam's too-serious-face, dimples back with a vengeance. Besides, he couldn't remember when they'd last taken an actual vacation…it would be nice to act normal for a while and hang out like real people.

"House will be quiet without you lot hangin' round" Bobby said with a smile, "That'll be nice."

"You're leaving today too?" Sam asked, turning to his side, eyebrows raised in question.

"Yeah, I gotta get back home. I've got a lot to sort out before I figure out what to do next…" Wandell replied.

Sam's brows drew together and Wandell read his confusion, elaborating, "Can't really go back to being normal after all this…I was thinking I might help look for signs about the demons…" She trailed off uncertainly.

Sam bit into his lip anxiously. This was the worst possible time to think of joining the ranks of hunters and their allies. It was dangerous and-

"Don't worry. I'll be careful." Wandell smiled, again easily reading the emotions tumbling across the youngest Winchester's face. He gave a quirky half smile, embarrassed by his seeming transparency.

"Well we could sure all use a little extra help. Steve wudda been proud." Bobby said knowingly.

"Yeah…we better get going while it's still light." Dean prompted after a short silence. Everyone started from their thoughts, nodding agreement.

A half hour later came the goodbyes.

"You take care of yourself Dean…she was right. You really will enjoy the Grand Canyon." Bobby said, grasping the eldest Winchester in a rare, brief hug. Dean nodded shyly.

"Thanks Bobby. For everything. We'll be in touch." Dean replied, heading over to Wandell.

"Watch yourself. Our world's not exactly safe…in case you didn't notice." He said losing his seriousness in favour of breaking the tension in the atmosphere, pleased when she gave a small laugh, "And if you need anything, call us." He handed over both their cell numbers as Sam said his farewell to Bobby, grasped into a hug of his own.

"Thanks Dean. I will. Likewise. I owe you guys a lot. I mean it. Enjoy yourself will ya?" She added giving him a quick hug.

"I'll try. Come on Sammy." He called out, turning and winking at Wandell, unable to stop the snort of laughter at the look on her face, her decidedly _reddening _face; priceless.

He stood waiting by the Impala as his kid brother wandered lazily to stand before Wandell.

"Thanks, for everything." They blurted in unison before exchanging warm hugs of farewell, telling one another to 'be careful' and 'take care'. Dean actually had to stuff a fist in his mouth to stop himself commenting on the kiss Wandell planted on his brother's cheek, contenting himself with a knowing smile as Sam's hand went up to scratch at the base of his neck. Yet another of his tells…that kid would get thrashed at poker…

As Sam folded himself into the passenger seat however Dean turned to look at him, a suggestive twinkle in his eye.

"Sooo you two are kinda close…" he said questioningly as the Impala peeled onto the road with a loud rumble.

"We have a lot in common." Sam replied evasively.

"Dude!" Dean laughed, "She was totally checking you out! And don't think I didn't see that coy little dimpled smile you gave her. You have the hots for her."

"That's just the way I smile Dean-not all of us are lecherous pigs." Sam retorted with a scowl.

Undeterred and unfooled Dean ploughed on, "Aha! But you don't deny you have the hots for her!" He said triumphantly.

"Dean." Sam's tone warned of pain but Dean merely laughed as his brother continued, "And she was _not_ checking me out…she's had plenty opportunity before now anyhow…"

"How do you know?! Eyes on the back of your freaky psychic head? And-what the hell! What opportunity? Why Sa-aaammy you sly dog!" Dean cawed loudly, head thrown back in laughter at the beet shade of Sam's cheeks.

"Ugh I didn't mean-"

"Yeah sure-"

"When you were frying Gordon's ass I…you never told me I only had boxers on and the blanket kinda slipped off me and-stop laughing! It's totally your fault!" Sam accused, arms folding across his chest in vain defence. Turning out the window really wouldn't drown out Dean's amusement, nor would it mask the obvious crimson shade of his face. Dean could probably _feel_ the heat coming of him in waves!

"Oh! Sammy I'm sorry a hot chick checked you out 'cause of me. She obviously liked what she saw…" Dean said, giving a lewd wink.

"God would you please shut up!" Sam moaned, burying his head in his heads.

His brother took some pity on him and turned on the radio to disguise his continued amusement, BOC's Burning for You blaring out of the speakers.

Just as he thought Dean's fit of laughter had truly died he sang out the chorus, a revised version especially for Sam's torture.

"…_She's burning she's burning she's burning for you…"_

"Kill me now!" Sam begged to no-one as Dean repeated his chorus of epic annoyance. "I hate you," He moaned as Dean ruffled his hair playfully.

"Ah come on lighten up! _She's burning she's burning she's burning for you'_" He pointed a finger under his brother's nose.

"Shut up!"

"Just admit it-you liked her." Dean wheedled with a laugh.

"Deeean!"

The older brother snorted loudly and continually as their argument continued on for many miles. It felt good to be teasing Sammy about girls for a change, a bit of light hearted banter, a bit of normalcy. It felt like old times. They couldn't lose this over the next year. Or indeed any of the ones that would come after it. There was no doubt in his mind: Sam would find a way out of the deal and they would go on as they always had, like this. He nodded to himself.

Things were definitely gonna be okay.

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-E-N-D-

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